


Mother of the Labyrinth

by guts_1997



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blood and Violence, Cults, Dark, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, Drama, Dwarf, F/M, Fantasy, Horror, Labyrinth References, My First Fanfic, Original Character(s), References to David Bowie, Romance, Slow Build, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2019-07-08 13:42:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15931607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guts_1997/pseuds/guts_1997
Summary: Six long years have passed since Sarah solved the Labyrinth and won her brother back from the clutches of Jareth the Goblin King. Little did she know just how costly the damage she had done to the Underground Realm was. Sarah receives a message from someone she never thought would ask her for her help, Jareth the Goblin King. She must once again solve the riddle of the Labyrinth, only this time, the stakes are far more monstrous.*EDITING EARLIER CHAPTERS*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 6/15/19  
> Looking back at my chapters, I'm a little embarrassed at the quality of writing they are in. Since I've grown as a writer and learning the format of a03, I want to go back and make some slight adjustments. These edits will not impact the plot unless I state so.

The sickening aroma of rotting flesh became common in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City.

At first, the strange stench was blamed on that of the Bog. Perhaps some goblin had snuck his way back into the city, and had brought the odor in with him. It had been the case a number of times; the guards following their noses across the city in hopes of capturing the guilty goblin, but finding nothing.

A couple of days later, the guards were ordered to search outside the city instead, within the Labyrinth. It was a small party of about six goblins: reportedly, some of the best in the goblin army. Eagerly, they had set forth on their quest, in hopes of pleasing the Goblin King.

Surely it couldn’t be that hard to find a smell? The goblins weren’t terribly stupid creatures. It seemed like a simple task they could perform while the Goblin King was setting out to repair his city. The girl had more power than anyone thought, and the aftermath of her confrontation of the Goblin King was devastating to the castle. Off the guards went, out from the city gates to the Labyrinth, with a single thought on their minds.

* * *

He had too much faith in his subjects.

It had been over a week since the patrol was sent from the castle to find the source of the stench, and still no word had come back. They were expected to send a messenger orb if they found anything to report.

Of course, he could just summon a crystal bauble and see what was causing his guards to dawdle around, but he simply couldn’t. It was as if all of Jareth’s magic had been drained from his body, the simplest of spells causing him to fall to his knees from exhaustion. He had tried to spawn one earlier only to collapse down on his throne, his body drenched in sweat. 

Luckily, he was alone in his throne room at that time, without a goblin in sight to witness his weakness. It was better that way. Rumors would spread quickly among the realm. There was already too much chatter of her.

“Drat,” Jareth mumbled as he gritted his teeth. For the past hour, he had been pacing back and forth in his bedchambers, pondering on his ailment. The stride of his walk, causing his boots to echo, was the only noise he allowed.

Never in the many centuries of his life had Jareth faced the waning of his powers. _Something_ had happened to him when that girl repeated words from that stupid book of hers. She was just a weak human - a mortal of only fifteen years. He could have snapped her neck with a wave of his hand and this silly drama would have been avoided.

But he had been captivated by her -- mostly by her determination and optimism to defeat his Labyrinth and save that baby. Yet, a sort of desire stirred in Jareth. Not borne of lust - she was just a pretty child - it was more of a need. He felt a sort of completeness around the mere presence of her. Jareth needed that stupid human, more than the return of his powers, more than food or water. It was a curse.

_Sarah._

A loud knock interrupted his thoughts, halting his pace.

“Y-your majesty? I was told you were in your bedchambers,” called out a muffled voice through the wooden door. “You requested me to see you.”

“Enter,” Jareth ordered, not glancing in the direction of the opening door. He noted the rustling of clothes to be a bow, then the cautious waddle of a dwarven mage. Dramatically, he turned to face the dwarf, swinging his heavy cloak around to swallow his body - and to intimidate his subject. Jareth was still the Goblin King, after all. The girl hadn’t knocked the crown from his head.

The dwarf had recoiled at this display, but remained in his spot. The Goblin King seemed more on edge these days than he had remembered when he had first encountered His Majesty. Then again, who wasn’t these days? The dwarf thought about inquiring on His Majesty’s health, but decided not to. _Not like I could anyway._

“You are called Rooster, correct?” Jareth asked, wandering over to a sizeable table where dinner was set up, the golden trays magicked to keep the food warm.

A miniature feast was displayed before the two: a platter of roasted hams glazed with honey adorned the table as a centerpiece. The other trays kept piles of potatoes, onions, radishes, and many other vegetables, all piping hot. On Jareth’s side sat a crystal pitcher with a diamond pattern etched into the glass near his plate, filled with only the finest goblin wine. The table was long but narrow, covered with a plain cream-colored tablecloth. At each end, two mahogany chairs with the same cream color on their cushions awaited. Jareth pulled out his chair, slipping into it as gracefully as a Goblin King could. “Sit.”

“Yes your Majesty,” Rooster said as he followed the Goblin King to the table, sitting on the opposite end of His Majesty. His chair had been magicked to boost his small body so he could reach the table, and be fully seen by the Goblin King. “Though it is only a childhood nickname that has stuck by me through the years, used by most of my peers and family members. My real name is just Ro.” _You would think he would remember a name as simple as mine. The rumors are right. He really has become an old, crazy hootbag._

“I have many subjects in my Kingdom, _Rooster_. I can only remember so many when so few are useful to me.” The Goblin King spat his name dryly, glaring down at the dwarf with his mismatched eyes. He poured himself a small glass of wine as the dwarf squirmed in his seat.

Rooster’s eyes widened, trembling at the thought of having his mind read again. He had no idea that the Goblin King had such power. With a grumble, the dwarf averted the Goblin King’s gaze and focused his eyes on his supper. “I-I apologize for my rudeness, Majesty,” Rooster stammered.

“They should have called you Chicken -- not Rooster. Isn’t a rooster more brave than an everyday chicken?” Jareth wondered aloud, raising an eyebrow as he pulled a string from the hem of his sleeve. With an idle flick, the strand floated away into nothing. Rooster swallowed, but redoubled his inner resolve.

“Chickens can put up a mighty fight. My mother raises a dozen of ‘em at a time, along with a rooster or two. They would fight the rooster if he caused too much trouble around the coop,” Rooster explained, pensively picking up a fork. The Goblin King hadn’t touched his food yet, and Rooster wouldn’t dare take a bite before his king has.

“So why do they call you Rooster then? Is it because your nose is the same shape as a rooster’s?” He questioned the mage, flashing a sly smirk, then snapping his fingers together once more. Rooster flinched, expecting his nose to change or some other trickery to happen, but nothing did. The Goblin King almost imperceptibly looked puzzled for a moment. Clearing his throat, Jareth grabbed his fork and stabbed it into a helpless slice of potato, shoving into his mouth.

“It’s a silly story, Your Majesty. I’m sure you wouldn’t really want to listen to me tell it. Now, I would just like to know why--”, Rooster started, but was interrupted by a snort.

“Rooster, when your King compels you to do something, I think you ought to listen to him and obey,” Jareth commanded, slicing off a chunk of ham without a care. Rooster furrowed his eyebrows. 

_I am NOT telling him the story. I will_ not _tell you the story. Please don’t actually read my thoughts this time. I’ll tell the Goblin King a story as close to the truth as possible._ Rooster panicked, his mind jumbled up from paranoia of the Goblin King prying at his thoughts again. His lips pursed and eyes closed, he began to weave the tale in his mind.

“I’m waiting,” The Goblin King sang, smacking his lips on the ham. As usual, the cooks had made the most delicious meal he had ever tasted. The ham was on the sweeter side, but he didn’t care too much.

“Well,” Rooster began, trying to buy himself more time to come up with a believable story. “When I was little, my powers were not fully in control yet. Like most mages, as a child, magic can be a bit wild, and have a tendency to cause mischief. Nothing too dangerous, but silly little things, like a hairbrush disappearing, or a rose bush turning into a tree. Silly little things…” Rooster trailed off, as he realized the Goblin King had his full attention on him again, his eyes seeming to pierce into the depths of the dwarf’s soul.

“Continue,” was all that was spoken, along with another smack and a delighted purr.

“Anyway, my mother was out tending to her chickens, and I was playing near the front of our cottage, ‘Jacks,’ I think it was. Y’know, the game with the ball and the spiky metal things?” Rooster attempted to chuckle, but was met with naught but the same smacking sounds. “I tossed the ball right up into the air, collected my jacks, but the ball fell right on my head. Gave me a big ol’ bonk on my little head. I let out a shriek of pain as any hurt child would, and my mother came around the corner to find that my hair had turned red.” The dwarf moved his hand to touch his hair, still the same fiery shade at it was on that day.

The Goblin King remained silent for a few moments, before replying “Charming” in a flat, monotonous voice.

The two finished their meal in silence, leaving Rooster alone in his thoughts. He had heard that the Goblin King was mischievous, but not quite like this. Jareth was domineering - and well aware of how powerful his mere presence was. He was the proudest of faes, never faltering in the slightest. Now, as they sat, it was like watching one of the goblins that would dirty up the throne room, jibbering and jabbing at other goblins for amusement. 

“Why did you summon me here, Majesty?” The dwarf found himself saying. His words grabbed the attention of the idle Goblin King, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Jareth raised his eyebrows at Rooster for asking such a sentence.

“I…”, Jareth started to speak, choosing his words carefully. “You are aware of the mortal who was here, yes?” Rooster nodded as he leaned forward. “She did something to me. I don’t know what or how, but she bewitched me in such a way that I cannot fully recover from it. My powers are gone. I can barely scrape the bottom of the barrel of magic, and I am nothing but a weak fool.” He clenched his left fist tightly as he spoke, ashamed of what he had admitted to the dwarf. 

“Your Majesty...” Rooster began. 

“Silence! I have not commanded you to speak!” the Goblin King roared, seating himself high on his chair and waving his hand as if he could silence the dwarf’s voice. “...As I was saying, I have summoned you here to help me. I need to find a way to gain my powers back. I am still responsible for a kingdom, and I cannot let anyone else know. If there were to be... talk, I will have heads rolling on the throne room quicker than a fairy’s flutter.”

“I won’t say anything to anyone, Your Majesty. I am sworn to secrecy, I promise you,” Rooster nodded, as his brain began to devise a way to temporarily remedy the issue. He felt pity for the Goblin King now. The city was still reeling from the destruction brought by the human girl’s visit. Who knew how the people would react, should word get out that the king of the realm himself lost his powers? Suddenly, the dwarf’s eyes flashed in epiphany. “Your Majesty, if I may, I can brew you a thistlewink potion tonight. If everything goes as planned, it will be ready for you by midnight.”

“A thistlewink potion? Are you sure you are able to handle it? If I am correct, not many mages have ever been successful in brewing it. The magic held within it is incredibly strong. If done improperly, the mixture can explode in the brewer’s hands, killing them instantly,” Jareth commented with a hint of a smirk. He was beginning to like the dwarf mage, though he’d be more tolerable without the stammering and frightened facial expressions. Before Rooster was able to respond, Jareth stood up from the table. His cloak fluttered around his body as it did before. “Very well. I will meet with you at midnight. Good luck,” he purred.

Rooster’s forehead creased, slightly puzzled. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” The dwarf slid off the table with ease, giving a short bow before he bounced his way out of the Goblin King’s bedchambers. He had never attempted to brew a great potion such as the thistlewink, so he was eager, if a bit anxious, to get started.

Once the dwarf had left, Jareth collapsed on his bed with a deep sigh. The plush mattress sunk his body down. He stared at the stone ceiling, once again lost in his thoughts.

“Sarah... Sarah. Come back to me, Sarah.”

_“Goblin King?”_ A voice whispered back. Startled, Jareth lurched himself upwards, the soft mattress bouncing in response.

“Sarah?” he called out again, this time a bit louder. A few moments passed without a response. Why would the voice respond? It was all just in his head. Jareth snorted, rolling his eyes. How silly was this all. 

How very silly indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah sat alone on her bed, reflecting on what had just happened. She couldn’t just write it off as a dream -- it was all too real to be a dream. From meeting her new friends, to rescuing her brother Toby from the Goblin King, it was real. Too real for her. She knew what would have happened to Toby if she had failed to solve the Labyrinth, but what would have happened to her? A part of her believed that the Goblin King would have returned her home, to face the consequences of losing her brother, to her parents. Another part believed something more sinister might have happened.

She hugged her exhausted body and sobbed out of relief. Some divine energy must have protected her from danger in the last thirteen hours. _No. A fairy godmother didn’t protect me. I did._ I _protected myself and Toby. What if the Goblin King comes back for revenge? He might come after me or Toby again. I have to protect Toby._

Her emerald eyes fell upon the vanity, from where Hoggle had once said they would always be with her. Only a few minutes prior, she had celebrated with all her friends. Their cheers, rejoicing in the defeat of the Goblin King, were raucous. So loud, in fact, Sarah was worried her parents would hear them and come into her room to find strange creatures dancing on her bed. Thankfully, they didn’t.

A wave of exhaustion and resentment overcame Sarah, and she couldn’t hold them back. Rage had taken control of her mind. She knew what she had to do. Grabbing the small white alarm clock from her nightstand, she forcefully chucked it at the mirror. _Seven years of bad luck doesn’t sound too bad, in comparison._

The mirror broke easily, shards falling from their frame onto the desk and floor in droves. The damage was irreparable. Suddenly, she heard her name being called and footsteps quickly approaching her door. In a panic, Sarah hid the alarm clock in a drawer just as her father opened the door, her stepmother trailing not far behind him.

“Sarah? Are you okay?” her father breathed, then noticed the broken mirror beside her. “Oh my god, Sarah! What happened?”

Sarah grabbed her right shoulder as if had been wounded. “It was so silly, Dad. I tripped over my own two feet and jammed my shoulder in the mirror. I think I just bumped it. It doesn’t seem to be cut.”

“Here, get out of your room, and I can take out the vanity. I don’t want you stepping on a shard of glass. Irene, could you check her shoulder?” Her father didn’t wait for a response as he proceeded into Sarah’s room. Irene nodded, motioning for Sarah to follow her. They went downstairs into the kitchen. Her stepmother retrieved a first-aid kit from beneath the sink, opening it to reveal bandages and gauze. As Sarah took off her vest, she tugged down her shirt to reveal the faux wound.

“You were pretty lucky, Sarah,” Irene noted as she checked Sarah’s shoulder. “It might bruise up, but I don’t see any cuts or scrapes.” She looked at Sarah, noticing tears forming in her stepdaughter’s eyes. “Sarah, honey, it’s okay! If it hurts that bad we can go to the E.R.”

“No,” Sarah choked out. “It’ll be fine, it just hurts.” _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus. I had to do this for Toby and me. For us. Please forgive me._ Warmth filled Sarah’s body as Irene hugged her gently, rubbing her back. It was the first time that her stepmother had comforted her like this. It was... alien. Accepting the comfort of a mother, Sarah hugged her back and sobbed. Irene held her tighter, rubbing the top of Sarah’s head to coddle her.

They stayed together like that until they heard Sarah’s father grunting from the staircase, vanity in tow. “Geez, Sarah, what the hell did you shove in this thing?”

She pulled away from her stepmother and went to her father, who was now at the bottom of the staircase, panting heavily and muttering to himself. “Let me grab some things from it. I’ll put away some stuff I might need.” He didn’t reply, waving his hand to beckon Sarah to do as she pleased. Hastily, she grabbed her items and dashed back up the steps. It wasn’t much, and they were mostly things she was going to throw out anyway, save for the alarm clock. She still needed that for early school mornings.

Back in her room, Sarah stowed the items in an empty drawer, setting the clock back on her nightstand. Sitting on her bed once more, she faced where the vanity once stood. The empty spot made her room feel much larger, while she felt smaller. She noticed a glint of light out of the corner of her eye, and went to inspect it. It was a small shard of the broken mirror her father must have missed while he was cleaning.

She gingerly picked up the shard and brought it over to a bright red book sitting on her nightstand. The book that started this whole mess. _‘The Labyrinth.’_ Sarah opened up the book to the first page, placed the shard inside, and closed it. It was small enough to allow the tome to close properly with no indication of its presence. _“_ You’ll be safe in there,” She whispered to the book. She then shelved the book on her bookcase.

It would be the last time Sarah would open the book.

* * *

 Following her time in the Labyrinth, Sarah had begun pursuing the life of a theatrical actress. She had been struggling with doubts of her acting skills, her mother’s legendary career hanging over her.

If she was able to solve the riddle of Labyrinth and save her brother from the Goblin King, she reasoned, she should be able to act.  
  
Confidence struck her like an arrow of lightning. In high school, she auditioned for every play she could, most of the time ending up with a major role. Every one-act play she was in always made it to state and won her theater troupe many awards.  Her luck continued when she received scholarships from universities, all wanting her in their theater programs, including The Juilliard School. When Sarah had heard she was accepted into the program, she nearly vomited out of excitement and nerves. Not even her mother, her long-time idol ever achieved this kind of feat at her age.  
  
Sadly, Sarah had to turn them down to attend a local college near home. In the summer of her senior year, her father was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. He had been given a short five months to live. She didn’t want to leave her father behind without saying goodbye; she wanted to spend what little time he had together with him.

After a long battle of thirteen months, showing more strength of will than anyone expected, Robert Williams passed away in his sleep, surrounded by the comfort of his family. Her relationship with her stepmother Irene had always been on the rocks but his death brought them closer. They had to be, for Toby’s sake.  
  
Once or twice a month, if there was time, Sarah would drive down from her college to stay over at her childhood home to visit Irene and Toby. They would eat a home-cooked supper together, always filled with laughter and joy. When it was time for Toby to go to bed, Sarah would always take him upstairs and tell him a fantastical story, dripping with details, of kingdoms far away, princes saving princesses, and the defeat of evil kings.  
  
She was always careful to never mention goblins in front of Toby during storytime, in case he retained some memories of him being kidnapped. He was too young to remember at the time, but Sarah erred on the side of caution. Who knew what sorts of trickery Toby had faced alone? So far, he had mentioned nothing of goblins, staircases, or a Goblin King. Hopefully those subjects would never be brought up.  
  
Every now and then, Sarah would have nightmares of the Labyrinth. In these dreams, she was always her fifteen-year-old self and running through the first maze of the Labyrinth, calling out Toby’s name. The ground was littered with the bones of her friends, their blood painting the crumbling walls. She would see Toby at the end of a corridor and run towards him, only to see him vanish to a different corner, farther and farther away. Suddenly, the chime of a grandfather clock would ring, deafening her.  
  
Then the hands would grab her legs. No matter where Sarah was in the nightmare, the hands would always get her and drag her down. Before, they had gripped her tightly, but not enough to bruise. In her nightmares they broke her bones, digging long claws into her flesh to tear apart her joints - as if they intended to crush Sarah between them until nothing was left, except for a bloody pile of human remains. Right before a hand wrapped around her face was when she would wake up in a puddle of sweat and tears, gasping for air.

The nightmares were manageable. Sarah would rather take a sleepless night over going back into the Labyrinth again. Her life was purely normal, and she intended to keep it that way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6/15/19
> 
> Edited the theater name as I don't like how cheesy it sounds and my author's note has been moved to chapter notes.

It had been six years since the incident in the Labyrinth, and it seemed to Sarah that those events were nothing more than a bad memory from the distant past. Today, however, things would prove her wrong.

Auditions to become a part of a traveling theatre troupe called ‘Oldtales’ were underway down at the town’s local theater. An odd name, but nevertheless she desired to be apart of the group. If she did well and was able to get it, she would be able to travel across the northeastern United States and be in different plays and musicals during the summer. It wasn’t a super famous troupe, but it would help jumpstart Sarah’s acting career outside of school. Sarah was more interested in the plays. Her singing voice needed some improvement, and musicals were never her strong suit.

She awoke two hours early, to allow enough time to prepare for the audition and to make it on time for her Eastern Literature class. While she majored in Theater, Sarah had decided to minor in English, as her love for reading books was still strong. These days, it was a bit harder to pick up a novel when required-reading textbooks and script memorization took up most of her reading time. Sarah walked into the bathroom and got ready for the day. She wanted to look her best for the audition.

After applying makeup and brushing out her hair, Sarah gazed into the mirror. Her appearance hadn’t changed too much over the years. Her facial features were sharper, since she lost her baby fat, but she still had slight curvature to her body. Her chestnut hair was also kept in much the same manner as before, only getting a trim to keep its length in check. _Sometimes I wish I had the courage to just cut it all off,_ Sarah thought, picking up the strands of hair that fell into her sink. The only issue with her hair is that it got everywhere. She felt like an animal losing its winter coat.

Sarah got dressed in a simple outfit: a white tank top with a black lace vest, black jeans, and a pair of combat boots. She was taller than most girls at five-foot-seven, but an extra inch wouldn’t hurt. She liked how tall she was. She sat on the couch next to her cat Tilly, who was still sound asleep. “You are one lucky girl,” Sarah cooed. “I wish I could sleep in a little more.” Tilly did not respond, of course, and continued her slumber. She had adopted Tilly a few months prior after finding her near the dumpsters behind her apartment building. The cat was as thin as a pencil and crying loudly for food. After moving into her apartment, the newly dubbed Tilly slipped into the house cat life with ease.

She peeked at her left wrist to glimpse the time shown on her watch. “Oh shit. I’m going to be late. I must have taken too much time getting ready. Bye Tilly!” Sarah kissed her beloved black cat’s nose and dashed out of her apartment. As she drove, her stomach grumbled noisily. “Oh hush, I’ll get some breakfast after the audition.” A few minutes later, she reached the theater and hurried backstage. Sarah had performed a couple of plays at the venue and was already quite familiar with its layout. She glanced at her watch, smiling to herself, noting that she made it to audition with hardly a minute to spare.

Sarah recognized a few faces from her Theater classes, along with some other actors she’d worked with before outside of her college. Most of the actors were alone, muttering lines or warm ups to themselves for their auditions. A woman with short blonde curls and dark makeup, standing in a corner with her eyes closed, grabbed Sarah’s attention. “Colleen!”

The blonde woman perked up with a brilliant white smile. “Sarah! It’s been far too long!”

“How have you been? And Roger, how has he been doing?” Sarah asked as they hugged. Colleen and her husband Roger were fellow actors and familiar with the Oldtales acting troupe, since they had been members in the past. They both retired after Colleen became pregnant and Roger became more interested in directing. Sarah had met both of them in the theater’s production of _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof._

“Oh he’s fine. He’s taking care of Daisy at home. I’ve been meaning to call you lately - next Saturday is Daisy’s first birthday, and I would love to have you there.” Colleen shrugged. “I’m not sure why we’re throwing a party for a one-year-old, since she’s not going to care for it, but Roger wanted to do it. I have a feeling that Daisy’s going to grow up to be a daddy’s girl with how much he dotes on her.”

Sarah laughed. “I’ll try to make it, but if I get this audition I might too busy. I’ll send Daisy an autographed program as a birthday gift. My mother would do that if she wasn't able to come to my birthday.”

Colleen scoffed at her and rolled her eyes, a glint of mischief reflecting into Sarah’s. “If you don’t come it’s understandable. I just need another drinking buddy to help me deal with my mother in law. You are old enough to drink now, right?”

“Almost! This Thursday will be my twenty-first and you know I’ll be down at the bars.”

The older woman patted Sarah’s shoulder. “Don’t drink too much, and watch your drink like a hawk. You never know what some creep is going to slip in to try to get with you.”

“Of course,” Sarah nodded. She wasn’t totally innocent to the idea of drinking and being drugged. She had developed a watchful eye over her food and drink after the peach incident, in case someone decided to slip something in when she wasn’t looking.

“Good girl. Call me after your night out. If you have a bad hangover, I can give you a few tips on how to cure it.” Colleen smirked once more. Sarah knew that Colleen was quite the partier. After the last showing of _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,_ Colleen had invited the whole cast to her house for a big afterparty. If Sarah could sum it up with one word, it would be “messy”.

“I won’t be drinking that much liquor, but  I’ll still give you a call to make sure you know I made it home safe and sound.” She gave a soft smile to Colleen.

“Colleen Alberts?” a deadpan, feminine voice called out. Looking in the direction of the voice, Sarah saw a woman gripping a clipboard. “It’s time for your audition.”

“Well, that’s my cue. I’ll see you later Sarah.” With one last smile, Colleen left Sarah alone and walked over to the curtains.

Over the next forty-five minutes, one by one, the backstage was slowly drained of people until only Sarah remained. _Perks of having a last name starting with ‘W’_. The same girl from before appeared once more, looking at her clipboard.

“Sarah Williams, it’s time for your audition.”

“Thanks”, she replied and left the backstage.

Sarah stood tall at center-stage, the lights bearing down on her. She swallowed, noting how dry her throat had become before taking a deep breath. A drop of sweat rolled down the curve of her neck. It was difficult to tell if it was just nerves or the heat of the stage lights. Even though she had been doing auditions since she was a young teen in high school, she still got anxious being alone in front of the directors. The way their eyes peered through the dimness of the auditorium reminded her of little creatures from long ago. She shook off the dread beginning to wash over her. _I refuse to think of...that... now. Right now, I have to deal with this audition and my studies._

A pen click from one of the directors brought her attention back to the audition. Sarah cleared her throat and shifted in her spot once more. “Hello, my name is Sarah Williams and I will be performing a monologue from George Bernard Shaw’s _Saint Joan_ ,” she stated, closing her eyes to get into the headspace of Joan of Arc. _Saint Joan_ was one of Sarah’s favorite plays - she loved the tragedy of Joan of Arc and how she led the French army to defeat England, the voices of saints and angels guiding her towards victory.

“Give me that writing!” Sarah began, her voice deepening and more hoarse. She mimed grabbing a piece of paper and tore it up into pieces.  ”Light your fire; do you think I dread it as much as the life of a rat in a hole? My voices were right."

* * *

 “But without these things I cannot live; and by your wanting to take them away from me, or from any human creature, I know that your counsel is of the devil, and that mine is of God.”, Sarah’s voice whispery, her tears trickling down her cheeks. Her eyes stared at nothing, but pretended to see the angels Joan had claimed to see, taking pity on her death sentence. Sarah took inspiration for the performance from the 1928 silent film about Joan of Arc. Joan’s actress in that movie, too, was a stage actress, and a model for Sarah’s interpretation.

There was a pregnant pause before one of the directors clicked their pen again and tersely stated, “Thank you, we’ll call you and let you know by tomorrow.”

Sarah took a short bow, thanked them, and exited the stage. As she walked to the entrance, she felt something tug on her arm. She turned around, startled. It was the clipboard girl from before.

“Hey, sorry for bothering you. I just wanted to say that you were amazing just now. I have a feeling you’ll get it. I almost started to cry when you did,” the girl mumbled with a small smile before turning away from Sarah, leaving her alone. She opened her mouth to say thanks but the girl was already gone. Grinning to herself, she left the theater to head to a bakery. There was just a sliver of enough time for a gooey muffin for breakfast, and she rightly deserved a chocolate chip one.

The rest of the day was spent in a blur. Adrenaline coursing through her blood after the audition, she was anxiously awaiting a call. After attending classes for the day, Sarah ditched her friends to stay home babysitting the phone. While waiting, Sarah went through a box of old things her stepmother packed from her room at home some time ago. Tilly slept on the couch, trying to ignore all the noise Sarah was making from moving the box around.

She couldn’t remember what exactly was in the box; it had been a few years since it was last opened. Irene wanted her to go through and find items to sell at a garage sale she was going to have in the future. Sarah tore open the box and froze. Her body tensed up as she gaped at the red book in front of her.

It was _The Labyrinth._

Shaky hands lifted the book, caressing its embroidered cover. She thought she had lost it ages ago when she had packed up her room before moving. She had remembered placing it on her bookshelf years before but never had moved it from its spot. Sarah figured she had thrown it away after her trip, but it was here. It felt as if the book was covered in eyes, each watching her.

Carefully, she opened the book to the first page. The mirror shard was still nestled between the cover and first page. Sarah picked it up, glossing her fingers over the edges. A small indent was left on the first page marking where it had been for the past six years. The shard mesmerized her. For a moment, she thought she might call out to her old friends, but stopped herself.

“I mustn’t. I musn’t,” Sarah echoed. “They would be angry with me anyway.” She held the shard up to the ceiling light, letting it bounce rays of light on the floor next to her. “No, they wouldn’t be mad with me. Hoggle would be at first, but he would come to understand why,” she muttered aloud. “The only person who’d be mad at me from the Labyrinth would be... the Goblin King.” Her heart skipped a beat.

The Goblin King only existed in her mind these days - on rare occasions, she allowed herself to think of him. He held a fear over her head still, like a knife. He had never presented himself in her nightmares, but still she felt him there, looming in the shadows and watching her run his Labyrinth once more.

Suddenly the phone rang from across the room. Sarah placed the shard back in the book and snapped it shut. Darting over to the phone, she answered after allowing herself a moment to catch her breath. If it was a director from the audition she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of one of them.

“Hello?”

“Hi! Is this Sarah Williams?” The voice was a male’s, older and slightly raspy, likely from years of smoking cigarettes. Her heart raced again. Although he hardly spoke at the time, this voice definitely belonged to one of the directors. The male with the bushy grey moustache and bald head.

“Yes this is she,” Sarah replied back.

“I was calling to say that I was very impressed by your audition. The other directors agree, and we would love to have you as a member of our troupe,” he said, pausing to allow Sarah to react. She held back of squeal of delight to compose herself.

“Oh my god. Thank you so much. I am honored to be a part of the Oldtales troupe, Mister...” She trailed off. _Shit, what was his name again? I should know this. Shit, shit, shit._

“Mister Barrows. No need to panic. I had not properly induced myself. By the end of summer, I have a feeling you won’t forget my name so easily,” Mister Barrows chuckled. “Two weeks from Friday, we will begin rehearsing for our first show of the summer before heading off to Vermont in May. I assume you will be making plans and getting your affairs settled in the meantime. I pray you have a good evening. Congratulations.” He hung up not long after.

Sarah finally released her squeal and jumped up. “I DID IT TILLY! I MADE IT IN! I’m going to be an actress and you will eat all the finest salmon in the world and get pleasantly plump!” She picked up the bored cat and swung her around. Tilly didn’t seem to mind it too much. Her orange eyes drooped down, silently begging her owner to put her back down on the couch, wanting to go back to sleep again.

The newly-appointed actress kissed the sleepy Tilly on the forehead, letting her fall from her arms gracefully and slump back onto the couch. “Silly cat.”

Once again, Sarah glanced over at the red book. She wasn’t sure what to do with it. The mere thought of rereading the once-loved pages nauseated her. It would be foolish to dampen her mood in the face of such news. However, curiosity struck, and she just had to read that line again. Grabbing the book again, she flipped it open to the last few pages, scanning the text to find the phrase. Her eyes lit up once she found it.

“You have no power over me,” Sarah read aloud, her voice a faint whisper. A shiver went down her spine as she breathed out the words. “You have no power over me, Goblin King.”

Without warning, an eerie stillness possessed the living room, coiling around Sarah’s body like a serpent.

In the next moment, it was gone just as suddenly, Tilly’s meowing bringing her back to reality. She turned to the face the spoiled cat, who was now sitting upright on the couch cushion, yawning and stretching her limbs. “Silly kitty cat. I’ll get your dinner for you.” The cat responded back with another yawn. _What the hell was that? ...I really should not read that book again. It has too many memories I do not want to relive._

Getting up from the floor, Sarah wandered over to the kitchen and opened a cabinet, grabbing a half-full bag of cat food. Tilly had left the couch and was dancing around her ankles. Impatient meows assailed Sarah’s ears, growing louder each second the cat went unfed. She shook the cat food into a bowl until it was filled enough for Tilly and returned the bag to the cabinet. Sarah left the cat alone to eat her dinner and went back over to the box. Picking up _The Labyrinth_ for one last look, Sarah dropped it back into the box and resealed it. _Out of sight, out of mind_.

“And that’s that,” she said aloud, wiping imaginary dust off her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the kudos and hits! This is the last chapter that's already been posted on FF. I'm currently in the midsts of working on the fourth chapter. Thank you all again and hope you have been enjoying it so far.


	4. Chapter 4

Rooster stroked his chin, eyeing the color of the thistlewink potion. The contents of the potion swirled violently within the cauldron. It was as if it wasn’t sure whether it wanted to be a sickly shade vomit-green or just a poor excuse for olive. The trick from keeping a Thistlewink potion from blowing up in the brewer’s face was to keep an eye on its color. If the color was veering towards a bright, neon green, trouble was afoot. Were it a darker, more “forest” green, the potion would be fine. He muttered reassuringly to himself as he added a pinch of ground dragon scales. This potion _had_ to turn out perfectly tonight.

The dwarf had been brewing Thistlewink potions for a little over six years now, and was considered a master at it, but accidents happen. He begrudgingly rubbed a bald spot under his chin; the last attempt at the concoction had blown up on him. Rooster’s once magnificently-braided beard was burnt to a crisp before he was able to douse the flames. He had grown too confident in his skillset and wasn’t watching the potion’s color.

Embarrassment taught him a lesson as well, when he had to publicly apologize to the Goblin King for his failure, and his little horde of goblins had burst into laughter at the sight of his singed beard. Only a few hairs were salvaged into a scraggly beard. Rooster couldn’t handle the thought of shaving his face clean. A dwarf’s pride was stored in the appearance of his beard, and he had burnt it all away in a second.

“They’re never going to stop snickering about it,” Rooster groaned, smacking a hand on his face and dragging the skin down. Part of him wanted to just yank it off of his face. Sadly, he couldn’t afford the sweet escape of bleeding to death. He was needed alive and well by the Goblin King for the sole task of brewing Thistlewink potions. “I’m a Mage, dammit! I cast spells! I can shape objects into living creatures. I can read the stars and tell people when a rainstorm is coming in a hundred years!  I’m not some witch who sits in a cave and brews healing potions.”

_But that’s exactly what I’ve become. Shit._

Rooster sighed, emotionally exhausted. “I could always hire an apprentice of some sort,” he mumbled to himself, as he carefully dimmed the flames beneath the cauldron, allowing the potion to cool to a simmer. “I wouldn’t have to tell them why I make Thistlewink potions for the King. I’ll just teach ‘em the trade, along with a few spells to tide them over if they ask too many questions. Might have to charm them, but it’ll just be a tweak. Yeah, just a lil’ tweak, and things will would out just dandy.” He grabbed an empty vial and a ladle. Gracefully, he scooped up the potion with one hand, careful not to spill a drop into the waiting bottle in his other. One vial full, Rooster grabbed another and repeated the action.

He shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t work... Unless I charmed them - but I can’t do that. Glamouring might work, but I don’t know many fae who’d be able to keep that kind of spell going for long. Not like any fae creature would dare come to the Goblin City now.” Rooster corked the potions, then slipped them into his robes’ pockets. A snap of his fingers ceased the dull flames as he prepared for another batch of Thistlewink. Another few hours of the dwarf’s life wasted.

“You do know me,” A silky voice teased behind him. A caress of claws slid down his spine, hitting a nerve and making Rooster jump.

Rooster’s eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes closed. He began to pray very quickly to himself, hoping beyond hope to believe that it was _not_ who he thought it was. “How long have you been standing behind me, Tilly?”

“Not too long, _petit ami._ Long enough to listen to your moans-and-groans and daily resentment of life,” Tilly purred, as Rooster turned around to face her with his arms crossed. She raised an eyebrow in mock shock, running a finger through the remnants of his beard. “Oh _mou petit!_ Your poor beard has vanished! Did it scurry off your face at the sight of fire? We must enter the Labyrinth and start a search party to find it! Maybe we’ll come across the missing guards, and they can help us find it.”

Rolling his eyes, he let out another groan, leaning back on his worktable. “What do you want, Tilly?” Rooster’s voice was monotonous. He stared up at the ceiling to avoid looking into the fae’s practically sparkling amber eyes. It was difficult, since Tilly loomed over him. Her body was willowy and slender, while his was more stout and square. Just as he predicted, Tilly craned her neck forward to cloud his gaze with her face. Her jet-black hair tickled his ruddy cheeks. Rooster grunted, swiping a hand in an attempt to shoo her away.

She hummed a little ditty, tweaking the end of his nose. “Oh, nothing from you. Except a teeny, tiny little favor. Will you come with me to the throne room when I report to the King? I’m rather concerned about my lack of a report about the human, and his temper? It’s not going to be pretty. You - with your Thistlewink potions - might improve his mood, and he wouldn’t lecture me on how to do my job properly. As if he could do a better job than _moi!_ ”

Rooster mulled it over for a moment, an image of the potential scene playing out in his mind. “It could work, but you have to remember: Jareth’s still angry with me. He just didn’t do anything dramatic because of how the goblins reacted to my... beard...” His voice faltered at the end, not allowing the previous night to be replayed in his head.

Tilly clasped her hands together and smiled gleefully. “Perfect! Are you ready to venture forth, or do you need to do any more of your magic over the potions?” she asked, wiggling her fingers around. “I can be your apprentice for the next five minutes. You’d show me what to do, right?”

“NO! Nononono, Tilly. Not now!” Rooster pleaded hastily, putting his hands in front of his body to protect the potions. “My magic and your magic don’t get along. I don’t need you to ruin another batch. I _cannot_ afford to lose this. Please.”  

Tilly gave the dwarf an exasperated sigh, her hands now at her hips. “Rooster, _mon petit chou-fleur_ , I would do no such thing to harm you, nor would I do anything to cause you to lose your head to the Goblin King. Not like Jareth would do anything to harm the only Mage in the realm who can brew Thistlewink potions.” She leaned her body on one knee, tilting her head. “What d’ya have to do left?”

Wordlessly, Rooster turned around to his work table, concealing a smirk. Tilly didn't realize that she called him a “cauliflower” in the human language she was pretending to speak. He wouldn’t tell her, of course, preferring to let her find out on her own time. Where the hell did she even come across French?

He took the bottles out of his robes’ pockets and hovered a hand over them, muttering an incantation. They glowed momentarily, before transforming into a couple of Goblin Wine bottles. Rooster slipped them back into his robes. “I’m ready.”

* * *

Their footsteps echoed throughout the empty hallways. It was shocking to remember how this castle was once full, goblin servants dashing off to corners of the castle with chickens or papers for the King. The other magical creatures of the realm would rarely visit, but the castle always had goblins dashing about. The goblins’ hijinks and tricks gave life to the castle, and now it was gone. Due to the lingering smell and the incompetence of the Goblin King, most of them had left, seeking refuge in the Goblin City or other villages on the edge of the Labyrinth.

No one would dare enter the Labyrinth after the disappearance of the guards six years prior.

The two walked side by side, Tilly keeping her steps small to allow Rooster to keep up with her. “Y’know, it doesn’t smell too bad today,” she sniffed the air. “Kind of orange-y almost.”

“That would be my robes. I had a spell put on them to cover up the reek, and of course, you can hardly smell it in my chambers,” Rooster explained as they rounded a corner.

“I was going to say it almost smelt like Glade. Do you know what Glade is, Rooster?” Tilly asked.

Rooster furrowed his eyebrows. “Glade? Is that some human contraption the girl uses?”

“Yeah! I’ve seen her use it over her kitchen one time when she burned her dinner. It comes in this little can and there’s a button at the top. You would press the button and this spray comes out with a nice smell.” Tilly’s eyes then lit up as she looked down at the dwarf. “Do you think that could work on the city?”

Rooster half-smiled at her excitement, but shook his head. “No human tools can save our city. It’s a nice thought, Tilly, but I don’t think it would work.”

“Hmmph. _I_ think it would. Glade covers up smells just as well as your robe’s charm does. Humans do pretty well without being able to use magic.”

“And the ones who _do_ have magic are considered freaks of nature, and get burned alive in the name of their God. I’ve read their history books, and it’s happened before over and over. They are afraid of magic.”

“Some aren’t. The girl isn’t, I think.”

“She’s one of very few humans who’ve witnessed magic and remained intact. No glamouring, no magic spells, nothing. That human came out of it one-hundred-percent fine and is trying to forget about it. She has a reason to be afraid, unlike other humans. You’ve said it yourself: she never mentions her time here.”

Tilly halted her walk. “Weeell, I believe you might change your mind after my report, _petit._ ”

Rooster stopped as well, peering up at the fae. “I thought you said you didn’t have much to report.”

“Oh I do. It’s just very minor.” She leaned down and tweaked his nose once again. “And you know very well I have my obligations to report anything out of the norm to the Goblin King. Luckily for you, you get to listen to it at the same time he does.” Tilly resumed her strut, humming the same tune from before.

Rooster rolled his eyes before hobbling after her. “Y’know, I can’t decide who exhausts me more - you, or the Goblin King. Both of you are always up to your ears in trickery and mischief.”

“Hush. We’re almost to the throne room,” Tilly hissed, her voice a tad quieter as they approached the entrance. A mere wooden door separated the two from the Goblin King and his minions. Tilly pounded on the door, shouting a casual “Yoo-hoo, it’s Rooster and I, Your Majesty.”

“Enter,” the Goblin King’s voice boomed through the door, which swung itself open. Once the door had halted in a thunderous rumble, the two shuffled into the throne room, exchanging glances.

Normally, goblins would be scampering about, pulling on each others’ ears or arms, shouting dirty jokes and spitting their food. Despite the ominous atmosphere that now ruled the castle, the goblins remained optimistic.

These goblins, however, were silent, their eyes frozen wide in fear. One was trembling and staring at the floor. Jareth stood tall with a thin stick in his hand. Upon closer inspection, the pair noticed the stick was the Goblin King’s riding crop. Tilly and Rooster dropped to a bow, their heads lowered.

“Did we come at a bad time, Majesty?” Rooster mustered. The palpable tension of the room creeped up all around him. They had arrived just before something awful was about to happen.

“No, not at all. I was just about to whip Borris for muttering about that damn cult. We _must_ show an example for all - to explain what happens when someone mentions it to me. It gets so _dreadfully_ tiresome,” Jareth sighed, crossing his arms. He wandered back to his throne, plopping his body down and dropping the riding crop to the floor. It bounced on the stone floor, rattling as it settled on the ground. “There’s always time for that later. Tilly, your report please.”

Tilly rose up from her bow, hands clasped together. “The human girl hasn’t really done much. She lives her life, attends her schools, does her plays--”

“Tilly, please. No elaborate introductions to your reports please. Spit it out already. Does she talk of _me_?” Jareth spat out the last word, staring down the fae.

Tilly matched his stare, her eyes narrowing. “Yes, Your Majesty. She mentioned you in passing. The girl was going through a box of things and found the book.”

“The book?”, He repeated her words. “What was she doing with the book?”

“She just looked at it in amazement. I swore her eyes were about to bulge out of her head. The girl studied it for a bit, before opening it up to repeat… some words, and then pulled out this shard. It looked like it was a piece of a mirror. Her eyes glossed over and she just stared at it. I think she was just remembering her time here and then said “Goblin King” before she closed the book and tossed it back in the box,” Tilly rambled.

Rooster knew she was getting nervous from how her voice wavered ever so slightly. All the spunk she had shown around Rooster had melted away in the presence of the King. She played the part of fearful subject just like everyone else.

Jareth pursed his lips, tapping a finger on his chin. “Very good, Tilly,” the Goblin King uttered. “We will have to start preparing. All of you, out!” he roared, then pointed at Rooster. “Except for you. Stay here.” The goblins scurried out of the throne room like rats, fearing the King’s wrath. Tilly bowed once more before she turned about-face, shooting a reassuring glance at Rooster. He nodded in kind before facing the King.

The room was eerily silent. Neither Rooster or the Goblin King spoke to fill the emptiness.

“Did you brew the potions, Rooster?” Jareth finally asked the dwarf, his voice soft and gentle. A stark difference to the lion’s roar mere moments before.

“I did, Your Majesty. I brewed two, to make up for the one last night. Again, I apologize for that mishap. I promise you it will never happen again on my watch.” Rooster retrieved the two potions from his robe, dark green swirling within the vials. Jareth took both of them greedily and yanked the cork off of one of them with his teeth, spitting it out before chugging the potion. He did the same to the second one, gasping for air afterwards.

“Thank you, Rooster.” Jareth gasped, clutching a hand over his heart and leaning forward. His face wrinkled in pain, holding back a scream. He slammed his fist down on the arm of his throne, as if that could possibly ease the amount of pain he was in.

Rooster only bowed his head. _The Thistlewink potion must be coursing through his body now. I can’t imagine downing them so rapidly as he does. It must feel like drinking lava and then feeling it burn throughout your whole body. It certainly does earns the ‘thistle’ part of its name._

Seconds later, Jareth stood up straight and ran a finger through his hair. “Those damned potions never go down without a battle.” He snapped his fingers, making a crystal bauble appear. A smirk grew on his face as he twirled it around his forefingers. “Yet I can’t survive without them.”

“It will only be a matter of time until I find something, Majesty. There are still thousands of books I haven’t studied in the castle library. One of them is bound to have some solution to your problem,” Rooster explained, fiddling with his robes. _I really hope something turns up._ Jareth’s smirk grew into a big, wicked grin. Rooster hadn’t seen him grin like that in...years. ” _Is_ there something you’re not telling me, Your Majesty?” the dwarf inquired, feeling his blood pressure begin to rise as a sweat drop rolled down his forehead.

“I have a little surprise for you, my friend.” Jareth laughed. “You’re not going to believe your eyes when I show you what it is.” The Goblin King stood up from his throne, stretching his lean body upwards to flex his muscles. He then began to push his throne across the chamber, the throne groaning in protest. After one final shove, Jareth peered down the hole the throne was concealing. Steep stairs spiraled downwards into pure darkness. “Follow me.”

Rooster said nothing, obeying his King as they descended into what the dwarf assumed to be a secret passage. Goblins would use shortcuts to get through the castle more quickly, but this was ancient. Jareth made his bauble glow to reveal cobwebs everywhere, and the stairs were covered in at least two inches of dust. Rooster took another look and noticed very fresh footprints. The Goblin King must have been down here, likely either yesterday or today.

“Don’t look down, Rooster,” warned Jareth. “I don’t need a dead mage on my hands. You’re worth more to me alive than a hoard of jewels.”

“Yeah, Jareth, I realized that too,” Rooster wanted to reply, but only repeated his usual “Yes, Your Majesty.” He thought he heard the Goblin King scoffing at his thought, but it was merely a scuffle of his boot. Another bead of sweat formed on the dwarf’s forehead. Rooster still wasn’t completely sure if Jareth was able to read his thoughts or not after working for him for all these years. He wouldn’t dare ask the King or bring it up again since the night they shared a dinner.

* * *

Meanwhile, Jareth was lost in the tiny image of Sarah he summoned within his crystal bauble. She was sound asleep, curled up snugly in her blankets. Next to her lay a ragged, stuffed bear, Artemis - he gleaned its name after hearing her call to it as he watched her before. Jareth reached out, dragging his finger down the bauble’s curve -- as if he could stroke Sarah’s hair while she slept. _Soon, my sweetling. Soon, we'll be together once more, and you will become my Goblin Queen. You being here will restore my powers… Sarah. Oh, my darling Sarah._

Last night was unbearable. Without his daily potion, Jareth was unable to summon his crystal bauble to see her. Panic had fueled his insomnia, his mind wild with “what ifs” and “is Sarah okay?” He would never muster the pride to confess it, but Jareth had become horribly obsessed with Sarah.  His Sarah.

“Your...Your Majesty? Your Majesty? I think we’ve arrived, but I’m afraid I can’t see much. Is there a light or...something we can use?” Rooster interrupted his thoughts. The image of Sarah disappeared as the Goblin King’s attention faltered. Jareth now saw only his own reflection: a gaunt, frail mockery of the fearsome leader he once was. He gripped his hand, the crystal vanishing as he dug his fingernails into his palm. The leather gloves he wore were powerless against his talons.

“ _What?!”_ Jareth snapped, turning his anger towards the dwarf. Rooster had created a ball of fire in his right hand, the flames’ crackling filling the dank corridor. Seeing the wrath in his mismatched eyes, Rooster stepped back slightly.

“I-I was just going to ask if there was a light source we could use, or if I may make a light source of my own. I see that I had interrupted your viewing of the human. I apologize.” Rooster’s voice was soothing and patient.

Jareth sighed, running his hand through his hair again. “No, don’t apologize, Rooster. You know my behavior is particularly awful these days.” The dwarf only nodded, and the two continued their journey downwards. As a young Goblin Prince, centuries before, Jareth had stumbled upon this chamber while exploring the castle. Apparently it had been a hiding spot for the Royal Family ages ago, and then forgotten about as time passed and new families ruled the realm, altering the castle’s layout.

When Jareth became ruler, he had a staircase built under his throne room, as the original entrance was in an unused guest bedchamber. Like his family, he had forgotten all about it until recently.

His boots crunched the dirt, a small cloud of dust rising up to lick the glow of his crystal bauble. Suddenly, the Goblin King smashed it on the ground, a flash of bright light filling up the room. He did not flinch, while Rooster swore at the abrupt decision of the king to temporarily blind him.

The room was entirely bare, save for a wooden table, every bit as dusty as the staircase. Stacked bricks walled the room on all sides - no windows, no doors leading to anywhere else. A huddled mass hid under the table, squealing like a pig. A bemused Jareth squatted down beside it. “Come look at my old friend here, Rooster.” He prodded at the metal creature with his finger, enjoying the deafening shrills.

“Jareth, I say this to you, not only as your loyal subject, but as a dear friend. What the fuck are you doing with _that_?” Rooster blurted.

Jareth merely cackled. He pulled the creature out from under the table by the scruff of its neck, shoving it into Rooster’s face. “Look at him closely. Study every detail. What does he remind you of?”

Rooster’s face contorted in disgust, much to Jareth’s delight. The dwarf eyed it cautiously, not wanting to touch the thing with his hands. “I’m not quite sure, Majesty. It just looks like a metallic creature of some sorts. Almost like an animal pretending to be a knight by wearing rusty armor it found in the trash heaps. Is it holding a brick?”

“Wipe his face,” the Goblin King ordered. He pushed the creature even closer to Rooster. Rooster winced, but he did as he was told, brushing a hand across the creature’s filthy face, revealing it to be that of a goblin.

Rooster choked back a gasp. “Is this...?”

“Yes. This is one of the missing goblin guards from six years ago. One of the party members who was sent into the Labyrinth to find the smell,” Jareth answered, placing the goblin on the ground. The goblin scuttled back under the table, nervously eyeing the two figures standing over him.

“How in the world did you find him?”

“He was hiding in the gardens this morning. I found him huddled behind the fountains on my morning stroll. I thought it was some animal that crawled over the walls, but when I took a closer look, I recognized the etchings on his armor. He was part of the six who never returned. Though, I don’t remember his name. I think we ought to give him a new one. How does Dirt sound?” Jareth explained, eyeing the newly-dubbed Dirt with a famous smirk.

“Majesty…” began Rooster, his eyes glued to the mangled excuse of a goblin. “This still doesn’t explain why you have the poor thing trapped in a dungeon. Why does he have no light? No food? No water?”

Jareth made an apple appear in his hands. He offered it to Dirt, who only hissed and crawled closer to the wall. “He doesn’t seem to need it. I tried to give him food and water, but this is what he does. Something happened in the Labyrinth that changed a normal goblin into a feral creature. The Labyrinth I once knew and controlled... did not have that kind of ability. This is something darker; something I cannot control without my powers.”

_Without my Queen._

“What’s that he’s holding in his hands?” Rooster inquired, pointing at the object in Dirt’s hands. “Dirt’s protecting it like it was his own child.”

Jareth didn’t reply, only taking off his left glove to display an array of bite marks all over his hand. “It appears to be a brick or a stone, but I’m not sure, since you can see how much Dirt liked me touching it. You need to calm him down or he’ll chew your hand off.” He slid his glove back on as the dwarf chanted a sleeping spell. Dirt fell asleep within moments. Jareth even felt his eyes droop until Rooster patted his arm to keep him alert.

“You’re not falling asleep on me at a time like this!” Rooster proclaimed, now getting wound up.

“I didn’t sleep very well last night. Give your poor, sick King a break,” the Goblin King jested, yanking the object out of the sleeping Dirt’s hands. Upon further inspection, the object was shaped like a brick, blackened by ash and covered in moss. A sickly-looking mushroom grew out of a crack in the stone. He smelled it and gagged. The scent wasn’t potent before, due to the orange fragrance Rooster decorated himself with, but up close, the brick’s smell matched that wretched odor that permeated the Goblin City and castle.

All of a sudden, Jareth’s hand seized up in stinging pain, causing him to cry out and drop the brick. His knees buckled and he staggered, clutching his wrist tightly.

“Majesty!” Rooster cried out, rushing to the Goblin King. “Let me see your hand.”

Jareth gritted his teeth, not wanting Rooster to touch him. “Back off!” he commanded. Ignoring his order, Rooster took the King’s hand and removed his glove to reveal a heap of rotten flesh where his hand once was. Jareth’s bones peeked out from folds of necrotic skin, maggots crawling between the crags of rotten flesh. The sickeningly-sweet odor of death filled the room. Jareth barely heard Rooster gag over the buzzing of swarming flies.

Yet, as suddenly as the grotesque sight appeared on his hand, it vanished. Jareth’s hand returned back to normal. He wiggled his fingers and twisted his hand back and forth, careful to check every skin flake in case the rot remained. Silence replaced the odor of death, filling the chamber just as quickly.

Leaving the cursed brick and Dirt behind, the two began the climb upwards towards the throne room. Upon their return, Rooster sealed the entrance to keep the evil trapped below. Jareth sat on the cobblestone stoop below his throne, covering his head with his other hand, lost in thought. He didn’t want to acknowledge what had just happened.

  
“Jareth, I think the smell of death is coming from the Labyrinth.” Rooster’s voice ruined the silence once more. “The Labyrinth is dying, and I think it’s because when the human came, she defeated you, which damaged you more than both of us realized. That brick is from the Labyrinth, and it consists of the same flesh you have. It’s like a parasite, and you its host.”

He paused, forming his theory carefully before the Goblin King. “In order to bring your powers back, we need to have the girl return to the Underground. I don’t know why, or what for, but we need her back to help us.”

Jareth’s eyes lit up. An idea he had fantasized about, but never dared to believe, was going to happen soon, and he just knew how it would come into play.

“Begin the preparations to bring the human here. We must make sure _everything_ is perfect, or she’ll slip out of our hands.” Jareth announced, his heart skipping a beat.

_Oh, my Sarah. You will come home to me now._

* * *

Sarah jolted up from her sleep, searching around the room. Her heart throbbed so fiercely, she could feel it pulse in her temples. She didn’t know why she was on alert, but something was wrong. Something felt very wrong. Her hand hovered over to the spot where Tilly would normally sleep on her bed, only to find her missing.

“Tilly?” she called out into the darkness. No response. ”Tilly? Where are you, kitty cat?”

There was still no response.

Sarah was about to crawl out of bed when she heard a faint “ _mrrow_ ” from across the room. “Tilly! Where the hell have you been?” she scolded. The cat hopped onto the bed with an air of grace and strutted over to Sarah. As if apologizing, Tilly nuzzled her head under Sarah’s chin, another sorrowful meow issuing from the cat’s throat. Sarah let out a sigh of relief and hugged the cat to her chest. “Don’t wander off in the dark like that. Who knows what monsters of the night may be roaming about?” she playfully warned.

Tilly accepted her fate without a hint of protest and began to purr. Sarah pulled the covers over the two of them, and closed her eyes. She stroked the cat between the ears for a few moments, and sleep began to call her once more. It never took long for Sarah to fall asleep these days. Sleep came as effortlessly as a play audition. Tilly began to snore as well, the warmth of her owner comforting her.

That night, Sarah dreamt of the Goblin King. _  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the kudos and hits! This is the last chapter that's already been posted on FF. I'm currently in the midsts of working on the fourth chapter. Thank you all again and hope you have been enjoying it so far


	5. Chapter 5

She noticed blood dripping onto her dress and instinctively wiped her bleeding nose. _Ugh, I don’t want the Goblin King to see me like this. Why do I even care how he sees me? Why is he even here? Why am_ I _here?_

“I’ll tell you in due time, precious.” The Goblin King spoke gently, not looking up at Sarah. He was much more concentrated on playing the song. “Be patient, and all will come to you in due time.”

Sarah scoffed. _I would have thought after six or so years, the Goblin King wouldn’t still resent me._ She inched closer to the piano, now hearing a cello and violin play the same melody as the Goblin King. However, they were alone in this “oubliette” that had been magicked to appear as a scene from her memories. _Why now?_

Without warning, the Goblin King slammed his hands on the keys, abruptly ending the piece. “I told you I would tell you! Learn how to be patient for once in your life, Sarah!” He bellowed at her, his eyes bulging and his mouth twisted in frustration. Sarah could see just how sunken his cheeks were now, the skin stretched out. Despite being full of anger, the Goblin King’s eyes had lost that spark of mischief that would’ve instilled fear in Sarah, in a different time. Before, he would have waltzed his way over to her and said something so witty, Sarah wouldn’t catch the smirking insult hidden in his words. What had happened after she defeated him?

“Goblin King, what’s going on? H-how are you reading my thoughts? Is this actually happening?” She gestured to the blood on her dress and the floating staircases. “Or is it just my subconscious creating something so messed up?” she muttered, putting her hands on her face. “Wake up, Sarah. Wake up! Wake UP!”

Nothing happened, of course, and Sarah still stood in front of the Goblin King, feeling like the foolish fifteen-year-old all over again.

“I apologize for yelling at you, Sarah. As you can tell, I’ve changed, and sadly, not for the better.” A mournful smirk appeared on his face as the Goblin King approached her, his rags brushing across the stone floor. “Sit down. With what little time I have with you, precious, I will do my best to elaborate on the situation.” As he spoke, one of the ruined staircases floated over to the two, stooped low enough for them to sit upon. Sarah watched the Goblin King settle down on the steps, then sat down on them herself, making sure she didn’t sit too close to the Goblin King. Her guard was still up, in case he decided to pull a twisted trick.

“Goblin King--” She started, but he rose his hand to silence her.

“Please, Sarah, call me Jareth.”

“Jareth,” Sarah began again, “what’s the meaning of this? I don’t understand -- why now? Why are you coming after me now, after all these years? Are you going to come after Toby? He doesn’t even remember his time Underground! I don’t see why he has to suffer for my actions.”

He snorted. “I have no ill tidings for you or your brother, precious. Not _too_ many at least.” Jareth paused, watching Sarah tense up. “I’m here to ask you for your help. You don’t have to answer me now, but I would like you to soon. I’m running out of time. Since you said those words and defeated me, my castle fell to shambles. I’ve lost my powers.” His voice softened. “When I brought you to the Underground to run my Labyrinth, it formed a connection between us, and you defeating me only strengthened that bond. It may have been because you were the only human who has done so. However, you leaving caused me to lose my powers: indeed, causing the Labyrinth itself to begin to die. My magic keeps the Labyrinth alive -- that, I already knew when I came to power. But no one knew just _how_ connected I was to the Labyrinth.”

Sarah listened, absently nodding to his words. Shock crept up her body in electric waves. She didn’t know how to respond. So many questions rattled her brain, nearly dizzying her. “You think that me coming back to the Labyrinth is going to save you?” Sarah found herself asking him. She furrowed her eyebrows. “What if it doesn’t, Jareth? Haven’t you thought about that?”

“The Labyrinth will die, along with me. It’s not for certain, but my future is presenting itself as grim,” Jareth said, reaching for her hand.

Sarah jerked her hand back and held it in her other. “I don’t see why I have to help you, Jareth. You kidnapped my brother and made me run your Labyrinth to get him back, drugged me with some magic peach, and tried to kill me! My life is going just fine now, and I don’t need you to come back and ruin everything for me. I’m certainly not going to let you touch Toby again.” She slapped her cheeks repeatedly. “WAKE UP, SARAH!”

“Sarah…”

“No! I am not going to help you. This isn’t fair!” she cried out, feeling like a teenager once more. She stood up, clenching her fists at her sides. Her fingernails dug into her palms from frustration. “Don’t you _dare_ put your problems on me just because you had some weird little crush on me when I was kid. I’m not even going to go _near_ that discussion right now. I’m not some little toy for you to toss around for your amusement!” _God, can I just WAKE UP? Please._

Jareth looked defeated. He lowered his eyes, unable to respond to Sarah. She relaxed herself, almost remorsefully sighing as she looked on.

“I will give you time to think about it, Sarah, but not long. I will call on you soon for your response. You’ll be waking up in a few minutes. Farewell for now,” Jareth spoke, barely above a whisper. He stood up, ignoring the human as he sulked back over to the piano. He sat upon the bench once more and resumed the same melody. The staircase they had sat on floated away. Sarah had to jump out of the way to avoid it taking her.

She rocked on her heels absently, unsure of what to say. Sarah brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, looking briefly at Jareth. His appearance had changed again during their “meeting.” Despite looking sullen and raggedy, he was almost glowing. A thin, almost holy aura circled his form. _Did that happen because of me?_

To her surprise, she began to walk towards him -- still maintaining an air of caution. Once more, Sarah heard the violin and cello playing alongside his piano. “What are you playing?” she asked, expecting no response. Jareth was so enraptured by his piano playing, he probably didn’t even notice her standing near him.

“ _Madre assente._ Italian for ‘Absence of Mother.’ It reminded me of you, precious,” Jareth answered, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be waking up now? Don’t forget what you promised to do.”

Before a word could escape her mouth, Sarah felt the floor below her sinking down. Invisible hands dragged her down by the legs along with the tumbling stone and glitter. She screamed, closing her eyes in one final attempt to wake herself up.  


Sarah awoke in a tangle of blankets, safe in her own bed. Early morning sunrays slid through the blinds, letting a little light into the bedroom. She touched her nostrils; no blood was on her fingertips. Tilly was curled up on the lower corner of the bed, raising her sleepy head up and meowing at the startled girl. “Sorry to wake you up from your beauty rest, Tilly. You can go back to sleep.” Sarah petted the cat, scratching behind Tilly’s ears. The sleepy cat closed her eyes, going straight back to dreamland.

Sarah slid out of bed, letting her feet rest on the floor before getting up. She noticed a dull ache throbbing near her ankles. _Why would my ankles hurt and not my nose? ...I need coffee._ Rubbing her eyes, she lazily stepped into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee. The clock on her microwave, reading ‘7:04,’ confirmed it was super early in the morning. Usually she would try to go back to bed, but due to her circumstances, she decided against it.

Soon enough, Sarah had a nice warm mug of pure black coffee resting in her hands. She took a sip, the piping hot liquid waking her up. Wandering around her kitchen, she was unsure what to do now. _What day is it anyway?_ She glanced at the calendar she hung up on her fridge. Her handwriting scribbled all over it, either reminding her of a school assignment or somebody’s birthday. _Birthday?_ Her eyes landed on today’s day; Thursday. Her 21st birthday.

Sarah quietly took another sip of her coffee, her lips thinning into a formless smile. “What a wonderful birthday present I got from the Goblin King.”

* * *

Sarah slammed down another shot of tequila. Her laughter was so hard it watered her eyes. Pop music blared throughout the bar, deafening its patrons. An arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close in a tight hug. She turned, barely making out the familiar face of Colleen.

“Colleen! You found me!” Sarah cheered, hugging her back.

“What? I can’t hear what you’re saying, Sarah! Follow me!” Colleen shouted back, dragging Sarah off the barstool and into the ladies’ bathroom. The music was hardly muffled by the thick walls, but it was an improvement. Colleen hopped onto the countertop, watching Sarah try to keep her balance. “How much have you had to drink tonight, Sarah?”

“Oh, y’know,” Sarah’s words slurred as she waved her hand, giggling. “First, some friends took me to Marlow’s, then that one bar, Juney’s on 27th, and then some real shitty, sketchy bar called...something. I forgot!” She giggled again. “I had a lot of tequila tonight. Sorry, Colleen, I’m not quite myself right now. How did you even find me here? I say that’s a bit tricky of you.”

Colleen smirked, remembering her own 21st birthday fondly. “This is where I come when I want to be alone. Have you been drinking any water? It’ll help when you wake up with a massive hangover. You still have classes tomorrow, right?”

Sarah nodded her head, “I’m ditching tomorrow. Y’see, I’ve planned all of this _accordingly_ and _perfectly_. I did all my assignments ahead of time and I’m going to say that I am sick.” She paused, her face draining of color. “In fact, I think I’m gonna be sick right now.” Covering her mouth, Sarah dashed into one of the unoccupied toilets and began to vomit. Colleen jumped off of the counter and into the bathroom, pulling Sarah’s hair up from her face.

“You’re gonna be fine, hon. I’m going to get you some water after you’re finished, okay?” Colleen rubbed her back.

Sarah spat whatever remained in her mouth, nodding once more. “Y’know, you really do sound like a mom right now. Daisy’s really lucky to have a mom like you.” Colleen helped her up, and the two moved back over to the sinks. Turning the nozzle on, she cupped her hands together and swallowed water, trying to get the taste of vomit out of her mouth. “How do you become a mom?”

The older woman smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “No idea. I’m learning it as I go, and it’s not very easy.” She leaned against the counter, looking up at the bathroom’s ceiling. “Roger and I’ll be moving soon.”

“Wait, what?” Sarah spat, wiping water droplets from her lips. “When are you guys moving? Why even in the first place? You didn’t even tell me if you made it into Crane River or not.”

“I didn’t,” Colleen admitted, crossing her arms. “Guess I’m too old for it these days. It’s probably time to retire and be a normal human like everyone else.” She sighed, facing an upset Sarah. “We were planning to move later on, had I gotten into the troupe. Since I didn’t make it, we’re moving sooner than expected. Roger somehow got this drama teacher gig at some private school up in Oregon. It’s good money, and Lord knows we need some job security.”

Sarah felt the tears forming in her eyes. Usually, she wouldn't be this emotional, but alcohol had control over her emotions now. “You could have told me this earlier. Not now!” she whined.

“Sarah, Sarah honey. I’m terrible at goodbyes. I didn’t want to say something at the audition and distract you. I’m not even leaving yet. We’ll still be in town for another month.” Colleen coddled the girl once more, rocking her gently as Sarah began to drunkenly sob.

“I need to throw up again,” Sarah said between sobs, pulling herself away from Colleen. “First the Goblin King, and now this.”

Colleen furrowed her eyebrows together. “Goblin King? What do you mean by that?”

As Sarah opened her mouth to respond, a girl walked into the bathroom. She eyed the two suspiciously, rushing into the stall closest to the door and closing it swiftly behind her. Sarah couldn’t help but laugh at the girl’s reaction - as if they were going to do anything to her.

“Come on, Sarah, I’ll bring you back to your friends. They can take you home,” Colleen said, taking her hand once more. They left the bathroom together, the subject of the Goblin King soon forgotten.

Sarah didn’t really remember the rest of her night out. It all became a drunken blur. After they left the bathroom, they ran into one of Sarah’s friends, who was scouring the club for her. Colleen let Sarah go into her friends’ care and presumably left the club. It wasn’t much longer before she arrived home, her head spinning and her stomach still upset.

“I’m never drinking again,” she mumbled, lying face down on her bed. _I can’t even remember coming home and flopping down on my bed. Tequila is a cruel, cruel drink._ Sarah curled up into a ball, clutching a water bottle tightly, kicking her high heels off her feet. She was thirsty but felt too lazy to open the bottle right now. Instead, she closed her eyes, trying not to get sick again. When her eyes closed, she felt the lull of sleep come to her, growing more drowsy by the second. “I have to turn off the lights. Get up, Sarah! You don’t want to pay extra for electricity.”

Sarah sat up slowly, her balance still shaky. With gentle movements, she got herself up, shuffling over to the light switch and turned it off. Her bedroom once again darkened. She slid out of her dress and came across a baggy t-shirt that looked more like a lumped up potato sack. Changing into the t-shirt, she once more flopped onto her bed, sinking into the plush comforter and mattress. _Comfy_ _comfy._

Her eyelids fluttered closed once more, luring her to dreamland. _I will have pleasant dreams tonight, no matter what._ She thought off, just before falling asleep.

* * *

“--she’s drunk _AND_ she’s sleeping. I’m not going to wake her up right now! Wait a couple more hours.”

“Keep your voice down, you’re going to wake her up.”

“Keep _yours_ down before I cast a silencing spell on you so you can finally shut up!”

“As you would even be able to. I’d kick your ass so far up, we wouldn’t even need magic to teleport to the Above.”

“I said shut up!”

Sarah stirred, snuggling deeper into the mattress to try to fall asleep again. The sound of voices continued to grow louder, raising her from slumber. She stirred again, opening her eyelids slowly. Her vision was still blurry. Rubbing her eyes, two humanoid shapes stood, illuminated by the strong moonlight. One of the figures was short and stout, standing next to the other figure who was almost twice the first’s height.

“I want to be done with this quickly, Tilly, and I want to go back in the Underground. I don’t like it up here,” the short form complained to the taller. “My kind is not supposed to be here.”

“My kind isn’t supposed to be here, either, but that hasn’t stopped us in the past. Like I said, she’s been drinking. It’s better to have a more sober human to handle,” Tilly snapped back. The two had been bickering so intensely, they hadn’t noticed Sarah rising up, now fully awake gaping at them.

 _What...what are they? Is that a dwarf? Oh god, they must be from the Goblin King. That has to be the reason why, or I have fully gone insane._ Sarah started, before clearing her throat to get their attention. They both froze, exchanging a wide-eyed look before staring at her.

Sarah groaned, her hands covering the disappointment on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently at an airport uploading this chapter, stuck in the middle of a 3 hour layover. Oh boy. :^) 
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks again for all the love so far. It really brightens up my day and I love receiving feedback.


	6. Chapter 6

The shriek of a tea kettle erupted from the kitchen. Sarah, caught off guard by the sudden cry, was deafened by her heartbeat, pounding in her ears. Adrenaline still coursed through her veins.

After yelling at the two arguing creatures to leave her bedroom, the dwarf, Rooster, decided it would be best to have a cup of tea and calm down. Usually, Sarah’s temper wasn’t this explosive; though, it could be the influence of alcohol that brought her child-like anger back. Tilly stood nearby, as if to prevent Sarah from running out of the apartment. While Sarah changed into an old shirt and sweatpants, she thought of leaving her apartment. She then realized that, if the Goblin King’s servants had found out where she lived, they would find her again in no time.

The fae shuffled, examining her own nails. She reminded Sarah of the Goblin King, having a similarly narrow facial structure and almond-shaped eyes. But instead of blond, feathery hair, Tilly’s raven hair was pin-straight and neat. Her eyes glowed of amber cleverness, while his were mismatched and calculated.

 _Are fae usually this...cold?_ Sarah wondered, wiping grimy makeup underneath her eyelid with her thumb. Despite the previous bickering, Tilly seemed aloof about the situation. Rooster had to play the peacekeeper, especially when Sarah began to cry about finding out her beloved stray cat was actually a spy for the Goblin King.

The fae didn’t even react to her tears, only shrugging and rolling her eyes, muttering to the dwarf, “This why I don’t like to deal with stupid, drunk humans.” Just because she could assume the form of a loveable cat, it didn’t reflect her true personality as a fae.

“Tea’s ready!” Rooster cheered, plastering a false smile across his weathered face. He already had enough of dealing with an upset human, and Tilly decided she was done as well, leaving him alone to come up with a solution. His mother once told him that wars ended with tea parties, so Rooster decided that now would be an appropriate time for them to all have a cup of tea. The tea kettle sat on a conjured tray, along with three simple white tea cups. “This will help you calm your nerves, Sarah. It’s Chamomile.” Placing the tray in _thin air_ , he began to serve the group, Sarah first. She cradled the teacup, wrinkling her nose at the liquid within. Her gut was telling her not to take a sip. Rooster saw, arching an eyebrow at her. “It’s not poisoned, nor will it send you on a hallucination parade.”

“Thanks,” Sarah mumbled as she took a sip. A flood of warmth surged through her body, her toes curling slightly. It felt like a warm, heavy blanket draped around Sarah’s body and cradled her. She sighed as the tension dropped in the room. _The dwarf was right_. The tea did help her out, along with sobering her up some. If she wasn’t sober during her meltdown, she was now.

Tilly took another sip of her tea, side-eyeing the human. For a dwarf’s brew, it wasn’t that bad of a flavor. Personally, she would have preferred a mint and lemon blend, but unfortunately, it wasn’t her decision to make. The tea’s effects were taking hold, her eyelids growing heavy from drowsiness. Sarah looked like she was about to pass out. Tilly slid down onto the floor, her back against the bedroom wall. She shot a glance over at Rooster, who had taken the hovering tray and placed it by his side.

“Something wrong, Tilly?” He arched an eyebrow.

“No,” Tilly shrugged. “I was just going to say, we better get started on explaining our mess before she passes out on us.” She yawned, covering her mouth. What exactly was added to this tea? Her friend didn’t seem to be affected by the calming spell as much.

“Right-o,” Rooster nodded, rubbing his hands together as he faced Sarah. “Let’s start with catching everyone up to speed on what I need to discuss. I’m going to assume you got our dream last night?”

“Dream? You mean the Goblin King one?” Sarah said, her grip tightening on the cup. _So it was real._

“Correct. It wasn’t sent by him directly, but by us,” Rooster gestured to himself and Tilly. “His Majesty wanted to make some... _adjustments._ The piano playing ordeal wasn’t our idea. We just needed the king to get his message across with what materials we can use. I’m also going to assume that you have an idea of what he said.”

Sarah nodded, recalling broad details of the dream; the finer points had hazed over. “The Labyrinth is connected to him, and he’s dying. You all think that if I return to your realm, things will be fine, since the Goblin King and I have a connection of some sort. Has this even been proven, or...?” Anger boiled in her chest again. That’s all she could feel about all of this mess. Pure anger. _Of course, it wouldn’t be so simple to forget about my time in the Labyrinth._

“Well, no,” Rooster admitted, twiddling his thumbs. “We have no idea if this would improve things or make them worse. All we can do is guess; at this point, we’ve tried everything we can. You coming back to the Labyrinth is our last resort - we _have_ to try it. I don’t think you quite understand how much has changed since you ran the Labyrinth to rescue your brother.”

“Things turned to shit since you came down,” Tilly interjected, sensing Sarah’s anger. “Let Rooster explain before you blow up in our faces again.” Sarah only glared at her, sipping her tea wordlessly.

“Thanks, Tilly, but that was unnecessary,” Rooster continued. “However, she is correct. After you and your brother returned home, strange events began to occur across the land. First, it was the smell. You remember the Bog of Eternal Stench? Imagine an odor like that, add that of death, and spread that all over the realm. The Goblin King sent out guards to find the source of the smell, but they were missing for almost six years. People became scared, as the Labyrinth used to be safe for ordinary citizens for travel. His Majesty made sure that anyone who entered would be kept from harm and come out of the Labyrinth safely. But once those guards went missing, no one ventured into the Labyrinth unless they had a death wish.

“Those who were desperate enough never returned. Rumors surfaced that there is a cult that lives within the Labyrinth -- and hopeless goblins are drawn to a hopeful idea. A lot of people have left because of these worsening conditions. The neighboring kingdoms don’t dare come to our aid, particularly out of fear for the Labyrinth, and partially out of a morbid curiosity to see our kingdom come to ruin. So, we have to solve the problem ourselves. His Majesty tries to keep peace within the land, but… it’s been quite difficult, what with the current circumstances.”

“Difficult? As in, his powers disappeared?” Sarah yawned. She forced herself to stop drinking the tea, lest she passed out in front of them. Who knows what they would do to her if she fell asleep.

“Yes, the Goblin King has lost his powers. They’ve been hindered since the day you defeated him. Our theory is that, when you defeated him, a great ball of energy was formed from His Majesty’s magic. It sent you and your brother home, but also siphoned away his magic. According to my research, that was the first time such a thing has ever happened in our world. There is no book or record of this kind of event. I don’t know how or where to make any kind of probable conclusion. It just _happened_.” Rooster rambled, slowly getting worked up.

“I think you should drink some of your tea, _mon petit ami._ ” Tilly patted Rooster’s shoulder.

“Yes, yes. I think I shall.” Rooster agreed, his eyes glossed over. In a swift movement the dwarf poured himself a cup of tea and sipped at it.

Meanwhile, Sarah had to process the wall of information thrown at her. The dwarf had just vomited words upon words, chattering about the Goblin King and the Labyrinth dying. How could the Labyrinth _die_ ? Sarah furrowed her eyebrows in thought, reaching for questions to ask. There were too many questions bubbling in her head, she didn’t know where to start. _Ball of energy...ball of energy._

“There was no ball of energy,” Sarah breathed, memories of the final confrontation of the Goblin King returning to her, a wave of emotions overcoming her. “The Goblin King offered me a crystal, trying to dissuade me from taking my brother. I told him that he had no power over me, and he threw it up in the air, falling below where we stood. The crystal vanished as soon as I touched it, and I returned home.”

Rooster blinked, producing a scroll of paper and a quill from his pockets. He wrote down the exact words Sarah had said, mumbling, “He hasn’t even mentioned this at all.”

“Hasn’t mentioned this? What do you mean by that?” Sarah asked, watching Rooster scribble it all down. His fiery red locks danced in the light of her room.

Rooster hesitated, unsure of how to respond. He didn’t want to mention the obsession Jareth had over her. “Well…”

“His Majesty has changed. Along with his powers vanishing, his personality took a turn for the worse. He’s regressed to the state of an upset child, and will lash out at anything,” Tilly interrupted once more, rolling her eyes. “Rooster, you really need to learn how to spit out your words and not beat around the bush.”

“I didn’t want to mention _THAT_ in front of the human,” Rooster snapped back, eyeing at Sarah.

“We have to at some point, or she’ll just scream at us again!” Tilly glared, crossing her arms and facing the bewildered Sarah. “Jareth wants you back, and he wants to make you Queen. He’s been watching you since you left, then sent me up to be your cat so he could gather more details, or whatever. We’re just here to explain things and take you back Underground so matters between the king and you can be settled..”

“Tilly! We need to let her process everything accordingly!” Rooster scolded, frustrated at the fae. She only shrugged and went back to sipping her tea. Tilly was done with the conversation. She went back to fussing over her nails - one had broken during the shuffle and was starting to hurt.

“No, it’s fine. I’m an adult, I can handle what you said just fine,” Sarah spoke, her voice barely a whisper. She stood up, legs trembling. “I’ll be in the bathroom, if you could excuse me for a moment. I won’t run off, I promise.” She walked over to the bathroom on the right of her room, closing the door behind her. Silence fell on the two, unsure whether to just leave her be.

Tilly gulped down the remnants of her tea. She did what she had to do - she was ordered by His Majesty and knew the consequences of disobeying. The scars on her back reminded her this very moment. Humans were always too much trouble.

* * *

The cool porcelain of the tiled wall chilled Sarah’s flushed cheeks. She lay curled up in a ball in her bathtub, hugging her knees close to her chest. The bathroom lights were off, leaving Sarah alone in the dark. She wanted it that way, feeling completely alone, empty, surrounded by nothing and no one. Sarah had developed this habit during college when she lived with three other girls in a tiny dorm. When they had left for classes, Sarah would sit in the tub without the lights, affording her some space from her annoying roommates. It was a good way to get some alone time and not be forced to leave the dorm.

Everything overwhelmed her, from her birthday, to drinking, to finding out her enemy is obsessed with her and his minions are going to drag her back into his hands. Tilly and Rooster didn’t mention that, of course, but she had a gut feeling that’s why they came. _It’s not fair. This is not fucking fair. I didn’t ask for any of this._

She sighed, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. Sarah was back to being fifteen years old again, overcoming an obstacle the Goblin King had conjured up. She had run for her little brother then, but now, it seems, she must run the Labyrinth for herself.

Even now, Sarah could remember the Goblin King’s cockiness, the way he had entered her parents’ bedroom the night she wished Toby away. That damned smile. His eyes, watching every moment. The way he tilted his head, so amused at Sarah. Back then, she was terrified and in shock of how her fantasies had become real. All she wanted was her brother back - she never meant those words. Now, Sarah would have punched him square in the jaw and demanded that the Goblin King give her brother back.

Years of repressed memories kept flooding her head, of her time in the Labyrinth.

A knock interrupted her thoughts, jerking her attention to the door.

“Sarah, are you alright?” Tilly’s voice called through. “We need to get going soon, so I need you to get out now.”

Sarah didn’t reply, carefully standing up and stepping over the side of the bathtub. She went over to the door, opening it to see a concerned Tilly hovering over a sleeping Rooster. For someone as short as Rooster, he was snoring more loudly than a bear. The tea set had disappeared, and the cups with it. Tilly nudged Rooster with her foot, but to no avail. The dwarf continued to snore. She scoffed at him, crossing her arms.

“Rooster, you _really_ need to get up now!” Tilly said, her voice growing louder as she nudged her foot on his head. “Stupid, stupid dwarf, drinking that fucking tea..” She picked him up, shaking him awake. He sleepily blinked his eyes open, smacking his lips. A smug smile curled the edges of his mouth.

“I’ve seen you naked,” he mumbled, sniggering. Tilly gaped as she attempted to conceal embarrassment. She shook his body again, harder this time. Rooster continued to laugh as Tilly tossed him over her shoulder with ease. Rooster began mumbling something about “cauliflowers and paintbrushes.”

Sarah, who had witnessed the whole affair, couldn’t help but smile. The pair’s interaction reminded her of her old friends. She hoped they were doing okay, and weren’t too upset with her not talking to them. Hoggle would likely be the most upset, since he and Sarah had grown close during the thirteen hours. Her sudden absence probably made him angry at her. _If they only knew I did it to protect Toby_.

Sarah’s eyes widened as she remembered the book. “Wait just a moment. I have something with me that might be helpful.”   _The damn book that started this whole mess._ She pretended to ignore Tilly’s groaning as Sarah ran into her living room, where the box of old things contained the book. She kneeled by it, opening the flaps, and began to search for it. Her fingertips grazed a familiar worn leather texture. Sarah cradled the book in her hands and studied its cover. Even in the darkness, the golden pressed letters shone through.

Her fate had been entirely plotted out by this unknown, little book.

“Sarah?” Tilly’s voice once more called out for her.

“I’m coming!” she responded, her chest tightening. _This might be the last time I am in my world. I don’t know if I’ll come back._ Sarah scanned her apartment, taking one last look, as well as she could in the dark, and returned to her bedroom. Tilly had a hand on her hip, impatiently waiting for Sarah.

“What’s that?” Tilly nodded her head at the book in Sarah’s hand.

“ _The Labyrinth_.” Sarah replied, showing Tilly the little red book. “It’s how I knew about the Goblin King -- everything from the Underground.”

“Interesting. This could come in handy. I’m not involved in the whole research dilemma. Rooster would be better suited to study your book. Once he’s in a better mood...” Tilly murmured, shifting her arm that held the sleeping dwarf. “Sometimes this idiot forgets that his own kind can feel the effects of spells more than you and I. And he calls himself ‘The Greatest Mage.’ As if.” Another snigger erupted from Rooster, Tilly smacking his back to shut him up.

Sarah bit her lower lip, hiding a smirk. She had a sneaking suspicion that Tilly and Rooster’s relationship went beyond merely working together for the Goblin King. “I suppose you’ll be taking us to the Underground?”

Tilly nodded, “Come closer, and I will. I warn you, since it’s your first time traveling with us, you may get a little sick. Try not to vomit on me, human.”

Sarah complied, walking over to Tilly and crossing her arms. If she did get sick, she reasoned the perfect spot to throw up on would be all over the fae’s high-heeled boots. “Let’s just get this over with.”

With a stomp of her boot, Tilly encased them all in a bubble, reminding Sarah of the Goblin King’s crystal balls. This bubble seemed like it would pop at any moment, unlike the solid crystals. Another stomp of the boot brought forth swirling winds around them, an immense force pressing down on Sarah’s shoulders. She began to sink to her knees but Tilly grabbed her by the back hem of her shirt, pulling her upright. Tilly mouthed some words to her, but the rushing of the wind drowned out her voice. Sarah’s skin felt like it was going to tear off in the intense gust. The fae’s grip on her shirt tightened, bracing against more wind. A flash of white light blinded Sarah, her ears ringing. _Oh fuck, I think I might pass out._

As suddenly as the light appeared, it dissipated. Their surroundings were much different now. Sarah’s vision blurred, not recognizing the location right away. Tilly had let go of Sarah’s shirt, letting her finally slump to the stone floor on her knees. She balanced herself with her hands, breathing slowly and deeply to fight the oncoming nausea. _Where are we?_ Sarah balled her hands into fists, the sinking feeling in her stomach growing.

She looked up to see the Goblin King on his throne, staring hungrily down at Sarah.

“Hello, precious."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the love for my one-shot! I can't believe how much it's gotten.
> 
> This chapter was pretty much a bitch and a bastard to write, but I promise that the next chapter will be a lot more lengthy and better. Expect some more Jareth and Sarah! We finally get to see them together! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I will see you lot in the next one!


	7. Chapter 7

Sarah reflected upon the scenario, of meeting the Goblin King again. The fantasy often resulted in her punching him in the face.

But never had she imagined being on her knees, with the Goblin King looming overhead. She stood slowly, backing away to Tilly and Rooster’s company. Tilly had since placed Rooster on the floor, his body slumped over in unconsciousness. Tilly bowed with swift grace, her arm over her chest and fist clenched.

“Your Majesty, we’ve returned with the girl,” she said, ignoring Rooster’s futile attempt at giving a bow from the floor.

Sarah stared back at the Goblin King, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her. His eyes were vacant, that mischievous gleam that haunted Sarah’s dreams replaced by desire. A want -- no, a need. Sarah was the only person he deigned to acknowledge in the echoey throne room. She then decided to avert her gaze, taking in the throne room.

The Goblin King nodded, still fixated on Sarah. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, precious?” He tilted his head, a smirk on his face. Unlike the dream, in which he looked elderly, the life drained out of him, the Goblin King appeared youthful. Moreso than Sarah could recall. Instead of disgusting rags, he wore his usual peasant shirt, tight leather pants, and long, high-heeled boots. His feathery hair shone like gold in the torchlight, the skin around his face more plump - not plump enough to hide the sharp corners of his face and cheekbones - and his makeup had a more dramatic flair, highlighting his mismatched eyes, predatory in their piercing stare.

“Unless you’re not counting the dream, then yes, Goblin King,” Sarah said, her voice confident. She was not going to be pushed around so easily this time.

“Please, Sarah, call me Jareth. We are friends, aren’t we?” Jareth purred, fiddling with the riding crop in his hands. He must have made it appear now, Sarah noted, since she didn’t see him holding it before. He waved his hand, relieving Tilly and Rooster from their bow. Tilly stood up straight, while Rooster remained slumped.

“I would prefer not to, Ja- Goblin King. I’m afraid I don’t see our relationship as friendly. I’d like to keep it formal between us,” Sarah replied, the dread in her stomach growing. There was definitely something off about Jareth, but she wasn’t able to place her finger on it exactly. The only way she could describe it was that Jareth was faking his emotions. Psychopathic. Her body tensed, hoping she chose her words carefully.

The Goblin King cackled, echoing against the walls. “My little Champion, still headstrong as ever. You never had changed, Sarah,” he motioned around the throne room. “Unlike my kingdom, you have grown into something... quite special.”

Sarah wasn’t sure of how to respond to the compliment. It worsened the unease rolling in her stomach. This is starting to get extremely creepy.

Suddenly, a loud whip-crack sounded, jolting the three. Jareth had smacked his riding crop against his throne. He aimed its tip at Sarah, eyes narrowed and breath ragged. “YOU WILL ADDRESS ME AS SUCH, GIRL. I AM YOUR KING AND YOU WILL DO AS I COMMANDED!”

Before Sarah could open her mouth to speak, Tilly grabbed her arm. “Your Majesty, the girl isn’t herself. She has been drinking, and Rooster gave her some calming tea, hence her condition. It might be better to talk in the morning, once everyone has had a good rest.”

Jareth cupped his chin in thought, nodding his head to Tilly’s suggestion. “Very well. We will talk in the morning. You may all leave.” He carelessly waved his hand, no longer interested in Sarah. Sarah felt Tilly grip her by the arm and resuming her task of carrying Rooster. The three left the room in a hurry before the Goblin King changed his mind, the heavy wooden door sealing behind them. Tilly led Sarah through the castle’s maze of hallways, ignoring the jaw-dropping stares from the goblins they encountered at almost every turn.

“She’s back! She’s back!”

“The Champion has returned!”

“She’s going to save us!”

“Does Kingy know?”

“Stupid! They just came from the throne room!”

Tilly halted in front of a door, slowly pushing it ajar. It groaned, having been left closed for a good while. With a snap of her fingers, she lit up the myriad candles strewn about the room. “This is where you’ll stay, human. I apologize for all the dust and cobwebs. A maid will come by in the morning and clean it up.”

“It’s fine. I don’t care how clean it is.” Sarah stifled a yawn. “I just want to sleep and forget all about this.”

The fae nodded, digging around in her tunic pocket. She produced a key, thrusting it into Sarah’s hands. “Lock your room tonight, and leave the key in. It’s made of iron. Just in case something happens.”

Sarah examined the key in wonder, not understanding what Tilly meant. Then it clicked, the dread returning. “I will.” Tilly turned to leave, but Sarah caught her shoulder. “Thank you. For the key, and back there in the throne room. The Goblin King was terrifying. I’d never have imagined him to act like such a monster.”

“I’m just doing what I think is right. It’s late, and I have to deal with this lump of shit as well.” Tilly shifted the dwarf on her shoulder.

“I’m not a lump of shit...” Rooster mumbled.

Tilly rolled her eyes, ignoring his complaints. “Anyway, it’s late. One of us will knock on your door when it’s time for breakfast. There should also be spare clothes for you in the closet. Bonne nuit, humain.”

“Good night, Tilly.”

The door shut, and Sarah was left alone. She heard argumentative murmurs exchanged between Tilly and Rooster that ended with a yelp. Placing the key in the lock, Sarah twisted it. She grabbed the doorknob, jiggling it to make sure no one would be able to get in. Good. A thin layer of dust coated her fingertips after touching the doorknob. She wiped it on her pant leg. For now, Sarah just wanted to explore her new bedroom.

Despite needing a good dusting, the bedroom wasn’t in particularly bad shape. It was larger than Sarah’s bedroom; hell, it was even bigger than her living room. Another door in the room led into a simple bathroom.

A canopy bed sat against the wall, dressed in fresh white bedsheets, its heavy comforter looking plush as a cloud. Dark green curtains hung around the bed, but were pulled back. Nearby the bed was a heavy, dark wood wardrobe with flowers and vines carved on the doors. The handles themselves were shaped into leaves.

A writing desk was in another corner, the desk surrounded by melting candles, leaving an opening just wide enough to accommodate a piece of parchment. The desk drawers were stocked with ink, quills, and thick rolls of parchment. How am I supposed to write with a quill? Sarah chuckled to herself, feeling the silkyness of a feathered quill.

Next to the writing desk stood a bookshelf adorned with books so old, some of them didn’t even have covers anymore. They were loosely bound together by threads of silver. Magic, Sarah assumed, gently gliding her hand across the books. She recognized a few titles: ‘The Hobbit,’ ‘The Jungle Book,’ and many others she had had back at her old house. Even her old French-to-English translation book Sarah bought for a trip to Paris last year. Books she never heard of, in languages Sarah had never seen before, were also scattered amongst the rest.

Part of the room was built outwards, into a little reading nook for Sarah. Seating was built in along the windows, a perfect place from which to watch the sunrise in the morning with a cup of tea. At the moment, curtains had been put in place (likely to block out the sun, since they were rather sizeable windows), matching the ones used on her bed.

A vanity also had appeared in the room, strangely familiar to Sarah. Upon further inspection, Sarah realized that the vanity just happened to look like her childhood vanity. It was painted a different color, and the mirror was wider, with carvings of roses decorating the wood. Still, it managed to stir uneasiness within Sarah. Bottles of perfume and containers of makeup cluttered the desk of the vanity. More makeup than Sarah had owned. She lifted a perfume bottle, giving it a quick spritz to sample its scent.

Peaches...ew. Sarah’s nose wrinkled, putting the bottle back on the counter. She had done enough exploring for the night and flopped onto the bed, taking off her filthy socks. Guess I should have worn shoes. The mattress sunk her body downwards, enveloping Sarah into a cozy warth. She sighed, looking up at the canopy roof. I might as well make the best of it. Despite it being horrifying that they’ve been preparing for me, judging by how nice the room looks, I’ll try to find a way back home. Sarah lifted her head up to double-check on the door, relieved that the iron key was still on the lock. What a birthday for me.

She shifted her position, wrapping the blanket around her body. Her eyes fluttered with drowsiness, sleep taking her within moments.

* * *

 Sarah woke up mere seconds before someone rapped on her door, as if she knew someone was coming to wake her. Rubbing her eyes with the corners of her wrists, she slid out of bed, walked towards the door and grabbed the iron key, slipping it into her back pocket. She opened the door to see Rooster standing there. His red hair was neatly combed back, and his scraggly beard was straighter than usual.

“Good morning, Sarah. How did you sleep?”

“Fine. How are you doing? You seemed to be out of it last night,” Sarah replied, crossing her arms.

Rooster blushed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. He couldn’t recall much of the previous night, having consumed more calming tea. Tilly had sweetly brought him up to speed earlier in the morning -- after admonishing him for his stupidity, of course. “I, erm, apologize for that. It was rather foolish of me to do that. Come now, I’ll take you to breakfast after you’re dressed.”

Sarah shut her door, heading over to the wardrobe. She had skipped out on opening it during her exploration last night and was curious to see what was inside. Maybe it’ll lead me to Narnia. A soft smirk twitched the corners of her mouth. I’ll cross over from one magical land to another. Perfect! She swung open the wardrobe doors, her eyes widening at the sight of luxurious ball gowns and dresses in all sorts of silky colors covered with precious jewels and trinkets. In the corner, huddled and hiding underneath the gowns, hung simple tunics and breeches. She scoffed, grabbing an olive tunic, black leggings, and brown leather boots. No way in hell was she going to deck herself out as the bourgeoisie. Sarah dressed herself quickly, brushed her hair, and applied a minimal amount of makeup.

She opened the door once more, Rooster standing across the hallway. “Shall we be off?” Sarah’s mouth began watering at the mere thought of food. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon, alcohol not being the greatest thing to fill an empty stomach.

Once again, Sarah was led through the maze of the castle, idly making small talk with Rooster until they both reached the dining hall. It was simple, smaller than she would expect of the Goblin King, but this dining room was probably for private parties -- such as herself. Food was set up in silver trays, covered by a lid to keep it piping hot. Two places were set up with plates, silverware, and golden goblets for drinks. Tilly was already sitting down, helping herself to half a grapefruit. She held a small book, mouthing the words between bites.

“Morning,” Sarah said, sitting down across from the fae. Tilly extended a finger up in acknowledgment, but continued to read from her book. Rooster made his way over to Tilly, looking over at her as he sat down on her left. She ignored him, spooning a piece of grapefruit in her mouth. Sarah hid another smile, enjoying their bickering. She lifted the cover of one of the trays, revealing it to be a pile of nothing but crispy bacon. Sarah licked her lips, taking a few extra crispy strips for herself.

Opening another tray, she found flaky biscuits piled high in a pyramid. She grabbed a couple of them, along with some gravy from a boat next to the biscuit tray. A tug on her tunic grabbed Sarah’s attention to a little goblin hefting a pitcher.

“Lady want drinky?” the goblin asked.

“Yeah… erm, yes please,” Sarah said, not sure what was in the pitcher. She held her goblet closer to the goblin, so he could be at a level to pour the liquid in. It turned out to be only water, a relief to Sarah. She thanked the goblin, who bowed and left. Taking a sip, Sarah was surprised to find the water almost sweet, as if sugar had been mixed in. Strange. She grabbed an orange, deciding that it would be proper to have some fruit to balance her breakfast.

As she peeled the orange’s skin, Sarah began to eavesdrop on the conversation between Rooster and Tilly. It seemed to be going poorly, as she noted Tilly’s body tensing up.

“Will you shut up?!” The fae snapped at the dwarf. Rooster shrank back at her outburst. “I am trying to eat my breakfast in peace, chou-fleur.”

“Later, we have to talk. It’s rather urgent, Tilly,” Rooster insisted, lowering his goblet to be filled with mead. Tilly replied with a mere huff and turned a page in her book. The conversation was done.

Sarah munched on the bacon, grateful to finally have some food in her. She turned her head to further inspect the dining room, noticing is that there wasn’t a plate set out for the Goblin King. He was supposed to be eating with us, right? Taking another absent-minded bite, she eyed the entrance. Not a soul in sight. Sarah tore a biscuit in half, dipping it into the gravy.

Her stepmother used to make biscuits and gravy all time, having hailed from the deep South. Sarah had had no idea, until she mentioned it in passing one day. When she was a teenager, Sarah cared little about knowing her stepmother, not deigning to get to know her. Now, the taste of the gravy made Sarah homesick for her family. I hope they’re doing alright.

“Oh, Sarah, His Majesty won’t be joining us for breakfast. We’ll see him later today once he’s feeling better,” Rooster relayed, watching the human stare off into space. A lot was on Sarah’s mind.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sarah found herself asking, surprised at herself. She didn’t care about him, personally -- it was just the fact that her old friends were in danger.

“His Majesty has trouble sleeping these days, and requested for Tilly and I to show you around the castle. Familiarize you with where everything is, since you’ll be staying here for some time.” Rooster explained, watching Sarah’s eyes flash into a green anger.

“What’s going to happen while I’m here? I have a life, college, a job, family. I can’t just drop off the face of the planet so I can help him,” Sarah retorted, her words venomous.

“I charmed a spell that would have those close to you think that they had just talked to you whenever they think of you. The traveling troupe you were going to join will have that other human you were friends with take your spot. Problem solved.” Tilly explained casually, not once glancing up from her book.

“That’s… that’s not fair!” Sarah’s voice faltered, sinking into her chair.

“You shouldn’t be here for more than a month’s time. The Underground moves at a slower pace than your world,” Rooster interjected. “You may be able to leave sooner if we are able to cure His Majesty, and the Labyrinth heals itself.”

Sarah didn’t speak, instead chewing on another piece of bacon. This is unbearable. Why did I ever agree to this?

Sarah spent the rest of breakfast in silence, drowning out Tilly and Rooster. Her mind was in a daze, jumping between her family to her old friends of the Underground. How were they faring in all of this? The Goblin King might have punished them for helping me.

Different voices drifted in from the hallways, turning into cries of protest.

“Let me see her! I have a right to see Sarah more than you lot!”

“Lady is at breakfast. Hoggle has to wait for Kingy’s permission to see Lady!”

“Nuh uh! I’m not leaving this castle until I get to see her.”

Is that..? Sarah stood up, ignoring the stares from Tilly and Rooster as she left the room, turning the corner to see two goblin guards barring Hoggle from entering with long spears. “Hoggle!” The old dwarf looked up, beaming with a smile. He pushed the two guards aside with a hmph! as he sauntered over to Sarah. She met him in the middle and knelt down to give him a hug. “Hoggle, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Miss me? You didn’t talk to me for six years. I said to you ‘should you need anything’ and you said to me ‘Oh Hoggle I’ll always need you!’” Hoggle scolded, pulling away from the hug and jabbing at Sarah’s shoulder. “Crummy bunch of lies!”

Sarah’s smile twitched, a wave of guilt rushing over her. A glint of plastic beads caught Sarah’s eye, noticing that he was still wearing the bracelet she had bribed him with. “I’m just happy you’re safe. Do you know if Sir Didymus and Ludo are doing well?” He looks just the same as he did six years ago. Thank God nothing happened to him.

“We live together now!” Hoggle said, not noticing how quickly Sarah changed the subject. “I’ve been promoted to a gardener, while Ludo and Sir Didymus are guards. Soon as I heard you was here, I just had to see you.”

“I’m glad! I’m really glad you are all doing well,” Sarah commented. It was strange that the Goblin King had her old friends so close by. Then again, he probably did that to keep them all nearby in case another human had to run the Labyrinth.

“My, you’ve grown up to be a proper lady! Lookit you, pretty as a peach.” Hoggle beamed before the wave of dread flooded him.

“Let’s not talk about peaches, okay, Hoggle?” Sarah mock-pleaded, hiding a laugh. The old dwarf blushed, muttering curses.

“Everything alright, Sarah?” Rooster called out to her. He and Tilly approached the two, checking out the situation.  
“Yes, of course.” Sarah stood up, brushing the dust from her leggings. “Have you guys met Hoggle before?”

“Met? The poor bastard prodded me with so many questions about you running the Labyrinth,” Hoggle exclaimed, patting Rooster on the shoulder. “He’s a good drinking buddy, though, once you get him filled up with ale.” Rooster was flustered at Hoggle’s talk about him in front of Tilly. He only nodded with an embarrassed smile, stepping away from the older dwarf.

“We were just about to show Sarah the castle grounds after we’ve finished breakfast, if you mind excusing us for now.” Rooster said, leading the way back to the dining hall. Tilly followed behind, once again distancing herself from Sarah.

“Oh, let me spend some time with the girl! It’s not even been five minutes, and you lot are already whisking her away from me.” Hoggle walked up, jabbing his finger at the young dwarf, his face moving closer so only Rooster could hear him. “Don’t you let anything happen to this girl. I’m warning ya, kid. Keep an eye on her around Jareth.”

Rooster had never heard Hoggle speak in that tone before. It reminded him of a father protecting his daughter. He could only nod before Hoggle said his farewells and returned to the gardens. “Shall we?” Rooster asked, waving his hand toward the dining room. Sarah looked back Hoggle, relieved that he and everyone else was doing well.

* * *

By the time the sun began to sink, Sarah knew the castle like the back of her hand. Rooster and Tilly had shown her not only the various chambers within, but also secret passageways that had been built ages ago by past royal families. One even led up to her room, but the bed sat atop the stone trapdoor, its weight too heavy for any of them to budge. Sarah made a mental note to move her bed once she returned.

Sarah also ran into the infamous stench that took over the land. It came in full force when they were down in the passages, Sarah almost unable to stifle her gagging. It was the worst thing she had ever smelt -- even the Bog of Eternal Stench couldn’t hold a candle to it. According to Tilly, the odor had grown fainter since Sarah’s arrival.

Lunch was spent in the caverns, but Sarah wasn’t able to take a bite out of anything. The smell was sickening. Rooster’s scent charms only worked so well. He had also given her some kind of snuffbox. She would open it and sniff at it, but the scent was what she wanted it to be. Sarah could sniff it and smell roses one time, the next lavender. She requested a small belt and a pouch to carry it around, since the tunics didn’t come with any kind of pockets.

Sarah had then been left to her own devices, figuring she needed some time alone. She decided to take a bath, since it had been a good while since she last took a shower. She sunk her body in the warm, sudsy water, hugging her knees to her chest. The tub seemed to grow deeper as Sarah sunk lower. How deep can I swim? she wondered, bubbles escaping from her nose. Coming back up to the surface, she smoothed her wet hair out of her face, blinking water out of her eyes. I don’t know what to do after this. Maybe I should read one of the books from the shelf. God, I can’t remember the last time I read something decent.

Sarah huffed, hanging her leg outside of the tub. She sat up for a moment, craning her neck to check on the door. Heeding Tilly’s words, she had placed the iron key back into the lock during her bathtime, in case a certain Goblin King decided to enter. No! Do NOT think about him. Sarah swung her head back around, sinking into the water once more, and crossed her arms.

Sarah would never admit it to the Goblin King -- Jareth, allowing herself to address him by his name -- but he had awakened something in her. Her knees would go weak at the sight of a man with pretty eyes and a charming smile, but they would never quite compare to the Goblin King. Though he was an enemy, he was a devilishly handsome one. The boys she dated never seem to be up to par with the Goblin King. Who could? No human was or ever will be like Jareth.

And the peach dream! How her heart swooned over Jareth then. All of Sarah’s fairytale dreams were made manifest. The Goblin King could whisk them away with a wave of his hand. She had been so tempted to heed him. Any teenage girl would have little hesitation to give everything up in exchange for all her dreams and wishes to come true.

The taste of goblin fruit had seduced her.

A swift knock assaulted her door, Sarah started at the noise. Who could it be? She slid out of the tub, letting it drain as she wrapped a bathrobe around her body. Her pace quickened as she walked towards the door, pulling the iron key out and putting it into the bathrobe pocket. Sarah opened the door slightly, peering her eyes out through the crack. “Hello?”

A black leather boot slid between the door and its frame, pushing the door further ajar to reveal none other than the Goblin King. He leaned into Sarah’s face, the space between them quickly dwindling.

“You called for me, precious?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments so far! Ahhhhhh it feels good that I'm not just writing senselessly into the void of the interwebs. 
> 
> I also need to learn not to write the next chapter as soon as this chapter gets published. I've been saying this since I posted it but I'm just so eager to write. It's become a hobby and as I was writing a paper for a class, I did not realize that it didn't even bat my eye that I wrote 3 pages in an hour. I want to also write other stuff as well, but I feel bad if I don't write a chapter for this story. I'm disappointing the invisible readers. 
> 
> Again, thanks again for everything. It always makes my day to see someone enjoying my story.


	8. Chapter 8

Sarah choked on her words, unable to speak - barely summoning enough courage to move her face away from the Goblin King’s. “No, I… I don’t recall calling you here. If you would excuse me, Goblin King...” She pushed against the door, putting pressure on his boot’s toe.

“But you _did_ , Sarah. You called for me by name,” Jareth assured her, ignoring her attempts to reseal the door. “There must have been a reason why you did, precious. And so late at night? Tsk tsk, how naughty of you, Sarah.”

“Nope! Most certainly not! I’m afraid you will have to come back again some other time. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone right now. Please, your Majesty,” Sarah said, raising her voice to capture the attention of any goblins nearby. A whisper of doubt told her that no one would. _He_ must’ve made sure of it.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me _why_ ,” Jareth sung mockingly. He disappeared for a moment,  leaving Sarah to peer out into the hallway before the door slammed itself shut. She turned about-face to notice the Goblin King standing behind her, resting his hand on his hip.

She moved her hand towards her pocket, feeling the iron key’s profile with her fingertips through the fabric of her bathrobe. Fae folk were supposed to be weakened by iron. If the key had supposedly warded him off last night, why was he able to be near here? “What do you want, Goblin King?”

Jareth pressed his lips together, forming into a crooked smile, and as he stared down at Sarah, memories of their first meeting flooded her mind. In the past, she was mostly in awe and disbelief that her fantasies were true. Anything was possible. Now, Sarah felt she was being preyed upon. A mouse caught in the corner by a cat. Her heart raced, watching every move he made.

He delighted in making her squirm. He still left her pleas unanswered, wanting to see how far she could be pushed. A true stress-test for his future queen. “Am I not allowed to have a conversation with you, Sarah?” He reached out for Sarah’s hand, fingers twitching for her touch. “Come. Sit with me, precious.”

Sarah was prepared to object his forwardness, but suddenly felt her hand clasp onto his glove. She shivered, this being the second time their hands embraced. The first had been during the peach dream. Jareth had held her tenderly in his arms, as if she were a delicate glass bauble. They once had danced and danced, Sarah’s young heart convinced they were meant to meet in a ballroom, as princess and king.

A fairytale come to life. All her wishes and dreams, laid out in plain sight in the palm of his gloved hands. Maybe, in another lifetime where things were right, the two of them becoming one would have been possible.

Now, his hands felt as cruel as his deranged gaze. Jareth pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight to his chest. He rubbed a hand through her wet hair, a shower of stars twinkling down her locks as they danced in the light. The Goblin King had dried her hair, letting it flow over her shoulders. “Beautiful as always, precious,” He murmured into her ear, lightly nipping on its lobe.

 _What is he going to do to me?_ Sarah gasped at his “love-bite,” once again trying to pull away from his grasp. Nevertheless, she was still pressed hard against his body, his arms only coiling around her body tighter not unlike a boa. “Jareth, I don’t want to be touched right now!” She lifted her head up to see the Goblin King staring off into the distance and humming a tune to himself. Sarah didn’t recognize it at first, but...

“But I’ll be there for you, as the world falls down,” Jareth whispered, petting the top of her head. “That still stands true to this day, precious. I haven’t forgotten my promises to you one bit. You haunt my dreams, my waking hours. You are the first and last thoughts I have every _single_ day, Sarah. Please, my precious, let me rule you, and I will let all of your wildest dreams come to life.”

“Thank you, Jareth. That’s very sweet of you, and I’m flattered that you think of me that way,” Sarah replied, trying to inch her fingers to the bathrobe pocket. Playing into his fantasies was her best hope of escaping from his grasp. She had almost reached her pocket when she felt his gloved fingers on her chin, cupping them around her face. Her eyes widened as Jareth’s closed, leaning in to kiss her.

 _Of course he would taste of peaches._ Sarah kissed him back gently, using their kiss as an opportunity to grab the key. She held onto the key tightly, gently palming it out of view. A tinge of regret caused her to hesitate in her plan. Still, this had to be stopped before it escalated into something worse.

A low rumble of laughter rattled Jareth’s chest, a cackle that chilled Sarah’s bones to the very core. Nothing had ever frightened Sarah more than his laughter.

He knew.

“Sarah, precious? Hand me the key like the good girl I know you are. _Now.”_ Jareth commanded, his hands moving to her throat.

“Y-you have no power over me!” Sarah sputtered, praying the words would drive him off, but his razor-like nails had already begun digging eagerly into her flesh. She still held on tightly to the key, using her free hand to pry his fingers from her neck.

Jareth laughed at her feeble attempts, tightening his grip. “ _Do_ I now, precious?”

“Y-yes,” she lied. Sarah was barely able to breathe, but her eyes returned his fiery stare. She continued to fight him off, doing anything she could to thwart his attempt to strangle her. From clawing at his face to kicking him in the knees, the Goblin King still held fast. She wasn’t going down without a fight. Her eyes began to well up in tears, struggling to take in raspy breaths.

“It is a such a delight to see you struggle like this, my pet, helpless as a newborn kitten. You had no idea how often I’ve _dreamed_ of snaking my hands around your pretty little neck,” Jareth purred, kissing Sarah’s lips once more. “Oh, look how your eyes just _glisten_ with terror! It really brings out the green in them.”

Sarah opened her mouth to spit his words back; all that came out was guttural noises. _Oh my god, he’s going to kill me!_ She began to panic from the lack of air as dots swam across her vision. The Goblin King wouldn’t relent, and took pleasure in her panicked state. Another bout of cruel laughter erupted. Still, Sarah was determined to overtake him.

With the last of her strength, Sarah smacked Jareth’s left cheek hard with the iron key in her palm and pressed it into his flesh. _He can’t be totally immune to iron_! Jareth cried out as his flesh audibly sizzled, pushing Sarah away onto the stone floor, subsequently letting go of her neck. The iron key fell to the ground, bouncing across it before sliding under Sarah’s bed. She was too busy taking in fresh gulps of air to notice the Goblin King’s growing fury.

“YOU!” Jareth snarled, cupping his burning cheek. Sarah peered up, gingerly rubbing her neck. “HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME!” Jareth almost glided over to her, his cape flowing widely in front of his form, encasing him and Sarah into a dark embrace. “You _dare_ have the audacity to harm your king - your future husband! If any other subject attempted what you managed to do, they would be flogged to death, _by my own hand_!” He raised his arm, ready to discipline her, when Jareth froze in place. He began to tremble wildly, and his body convulsed, causing him to sink to his knees.

Sarah pensively eyed him, studying every detail. There was a loss hidden away in the Goblin King’s eyes, one that Sarah had not seen in years. Not since six years before, on the remains of the Escher staircase, when Jareth fell into the abyss below. Then, he had watched Sarah cup the crystal in her hands, vanishing into thin air as he did.

He was once again defeated by the small, soft hands of his precious.

“Sarah? Are you alright?” Jareth whispered. His words broke with sorrow, almost childlike in manner. She swallowed with difficulty, still finding the ability to speak hard from her strangling and rubbed the curve of her neck. For a moment, Sarah gaped at the old Jareth, mirrored from past memories. From the dream to now, this was the first time she saw _him._ And, god, did she want that Jareth back. Little by little, memories of the Goblin King shattered around her feet. No longer would he be brought up in the rare moment she allowed herself to once again taste the peaches.

“Yes,” Sarah managed to croak out. The word stung, stabbing the insides of her throat.

“Sarah, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do what I did. You know I would never hurt you like that, right? This... _illness_ is making me deranged.” He paused, staring at his hands. Jareth flexed his fingers slowly, tightening into shaking fists. “God damn me to Hell!”

Sarah didn’t know whether to spit on or pity him. All she felt was fear. _Fear me...he did say that once, a long time ago._ “Out,” she stated, pointing to the door. Jareth opened his mouth to speak, but silenced himself. Sarah’s eyes imprinted his soul with their fury. He quickly picked himself up from the ground, curtly bowed, and strode briskly to the door. He lingered for a moment in an attempt to construct an apology. Again, he failed to find the words, shutting the door behind him. Mere moments later, Tilly and Rooster burst in, slamming the door open so hard the walls managed to shake.

“Sarah? Are you alright?” Rooster asked, knowing that Sarah was most certainly not alright. He saw the marks on her neck, clear as day.

Tilly glanced back at the door, peering out of the room to verify whether the Goblin King really had vanished. Not a soul haunted the halls. She closed the door, muttering to herself as her hand hovered over the door knob. It glowed a bright orange before it simmered to its usual brass. Tilly turned back to see Rooster applying a white salve to Sarah’s neck.

“This will help. I can-”

“Go. Both of you. Leave.” Sarah pointed to the door, just as with Jareth. She wanted-- _needed_ to be alone.

Rooster stammered, but Tilly clasped his shoulder. “Listen to the human, _mon petit chou-fleur._ She’ll be safe for the night; I made sure of it. We’ll come back in the morning.” Rooster nodded in resignation, following Tilly to the door. Tilly closed it behind them, a tinge of guilt wringing her heart. Sarah listened to their footsteps echoing down the hallway, growing fainter and fainter.

Once they faded out of earshot, it was only then she got up and went back into the bathroom. Sarah shut the door, crawled into the tub, and hugged her knees. The water hadn’t completely drained out yet, the water soaking through her bathrobe. She didn’t care; in fact, Sarah could hardly feel her emotions.

The numbness crept up, Sarah gladly letting it swallow her whole.

* * *

 

Jareth paced, his words gibberish to any ear privy to his muttering. Both of his encounters with Sarah had ended poorly. He knew he had grown to be a monster, and he did try to fight it off every single day. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough to quell this horrible beast of a curse. His days were numbered.

As he stormed back to his rooms, Jareth had come to the realization that abusing Sarah had brought him back to a sense of normalcy. He still had the ability of magic - weakened, of course, but some magic was better than none. Memories were retained and not forgotten. He even felt better physically, for the first time in at least a month.

Then there was _Her_.

A mocking delusion of Sarah that haunted him. The same spoiled, girlish human that sauntered her way into his Labyrinth and tore it to pieces. This “Sarah” lacked the kindness the real one possessed, her cruelty to the Goblin King played up nearly tenfold.

 _Your eyes can be so cruel._ Jareth repeated the lyric over and over. The songs he had made for Sarah were the only songs he sang anymore. Even so, he didn’t dare to sing them in their entirety. The lyrics he did manage to sing put him in a miserable enough state.

“Now now, don’t pout so much. You’ll put _me_ in a depressive mood,” Sarah’s voice teased with a lingering caress on Jareth’s neck. His heart fluttered, an innocent hope that it wasn’t Her. He turned around to nothing, a sigh of relief escaping him. “Speak of the devil, and he shall come.”

Jareth rolled his eyes, attempting to hide the disappointment on his face. “In this case, I’d think ‘she’ would be more fitting.” A hand on his hip, the Goblin King jerked his head towards where She reclined on one of his cushions, still in that damnable outfit “his” Sarah wore six years past. The collar on her shirt was popped as if mocking his. Nothing changed about this cursed vision.

“You.”

“Me?”

“I have no time for your games! Can’t you leave me alone for once?” he snapped at the image, stepping towards it.

She smirked, tilting her head to allow her luscious locks to drape over her shoulders. “Sorry, I really can’t do that. It’s not one of my abilities - not like I have any. However, I can still keep you company. It’s better than you rambling on like a mad-man for hours on end.”

Jareth scoffed, “Mad-man? I’m already half mad, and you lingering around will _not_ improve the situation.” He clenched his hand, wishing he could throw this creature out a window.

“You can’t throw out an illusion. Delusion. Hallucination. Yadda yadda, whatever word you want to replace it with, since you’ve become so keen on vocabulary,” She scolded, wagging Her index finger. “I’m here to stay, unless you can figure out a way to be rid of me. You just have to suck it up until then, Jareth.” The vision’s eyes flickered, taunting Jareth.

 _I should have strangled you instead. Not my Sarah. YOU!_ Jareth blinked, grimacing. He opened his eyes, his hands raised up and coiled around Sarah’s neck. The same, pained expressions and pleas repeated themselves over and over.

“Jareth, please! Let me go, Jareth! You’re going to kill me!” Sarah cried out between sobs. He screamed in his rage, letting go of Her neck to only shove Her away. The vision of Sarah slumped to the floor, a low rumble of laughter following as She sat Herself up. Marks where the Goblin King’s hands had been appeared, exaggerating the severity of his strangulation.

“You can’t hurt me, _precious._ ” Her words dripped with venom, sinking into Jareth’s heart. “I’m not real! Use me, abuse me, drag me to the oubliettes below and leave me there to rot for all eternity. Your Sarah has made a weakened fool of you. I can bring you much, much more than childish daydreams. Deep down in that crooked soul you possess, you want to unleash all the violence that had burrowed up. You want to hurt your _precious_ , _darling_ , _HUMAN_ , don’t you? Now’s your chance, kingy.”

“ENOUGH!” Jareth cried out, a crystal bauble on his fingertips ready to be thrown. He had had enough of this horror show. God only knew what else his shattered state could do at this point. With a quick motion, he threw the bauble at the now cackling vision of Sarah. It smacked Her forehead, sinking into Her skin until Her form faded into a puddle of glitter. A last, spiteful gift from the vision.

He panted heavily, clutching his chest out of fear of his heart leaping out. The room had grown silent, for which Jareth was thankful. For once, he enjoyed the silence. Closing his eyes, the Goblin king attempted to calm himself down, but it wasn’t going to be enough.

Nothing was.

Jareth rushed to the drawer containing his thistlewink potions, pulling it ajar and grabbing a vial. He had already downed two today, and three was leaning towards overdose territory. Greedily slurping its contents, Jareth smiled. The potion’s effects would soon overcome him with calm. But it never lasted long enough for him to be fully happy.

He, too would welcome the numbness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this chapter is not my best lol. It's really not. Life pushed me into this sluggish mess and it was insanely difficult to finish this chapter and shape it up into something readable. College has been really bringing me down, as it's nearing finals and I want to push for better grades. Next chapter will be a LOT better length wise and plot wise. I wan to finally get into the nice adventure groove of things but all this plot is in the way! I want to write some...spoiler scenes!
> 
> Thanks again for all the hits and kudos and comments and love and a million other things that help me wake up in the morning. It means the world to me. See you all in the next chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

The morning following her scuffle with Jareth, Sarah came to the conclusion that she needed to learn how to fight. Karate classes from second grade weren’t going to help her defend herself against the Goblin King, if he decided to resume his assault.

She brought forth her concerns over breakfast with Tilly and Rooster. “Teach me how to fight. Wield a sword. Whatever I need to do to protect myself.” Despite chugging down the nasty tea Rooster insisted on her to drink, her voice was still hoarse and her throat still burned. “I don’t want to be helpless anymore and have you guys running to my aid everytime something bad happens.”

“Sarah,” Rooster began, carefully considering each word. He was beginning to note how similar Tilly and Sarah were. They were both women who he shouldn’t trifle with - ever. Their spirits were too wild and determined for the likes of his mild-mannered ways. “You have to understand that things are different here. Magic plays a crucial role here, and it can be very dangerous for disinclined humans. You should most certainly know how it works by now. Things aren’t very fair, nor do they make sense.”

“Isn’t there some kind of established fact that I’m  _ not  _ like other humans? I’m not trying to brag here, but isn’t it  _ my _ fault that you all are in this mess? I’d like to believe I’m aware of the Underground not being fair in the slightest,” Sarah shot back. “I want to help out in any way I can. This is one way I can help you both. You won’t have to worry about me as much. That way there can be more focus on the Goblin King.”

“But, Sarah-”

“Ah _ , mon petit chou-fleur _ , what can be the harm in it? I can oversee it, and she can train with some of the goblin corps. You’re going to worry your pretty little head over nothing.” Tilly butted in, playfully rubbing the top of Rooster’s head. She fluttered her eyelashes oh so gently. Rooster stammered in dissent before huffing, waving a hand dismissively at the fae.

“Fine. Go and get the human  _ we need in order to save our kingdom  _ killed. See if I care. She literally almost died last night, but go ahead! Hurt her more!” With that, Rooster returned to his breakfast, grumbling away at how Tilly was “far too pretty for her own damn good.”

And so, Sarah began to learn how to fight.

All the drills in sword-wielding, fencing, dueling - along with a few lessons in handling a dagger -  passed the time in a flash. It was almost three weeks later when Sarah realized how long she had been away from her family.

She had settled into bed for the night, curled up in the covers with a book from the nearby shelf. The book was an autobiography of the previous Goblin King, King Orson, Second of His Name, Ruler of the Goblin City and Labyrinth.

Perusing the book, Sarah gleaned more information on the Labyrinth: that the role of Goblin King was chosen by the Labyrinth itself, as were the subsequent heirs to the throne. Jareth was chosen as an heir to the throne long before he was even born, and had to wait even longer for King Orson to pass on before he could ascend. It was interesting to find out that Jareth wasn’t directly related to King Orson - more along the lines of second cousins.

Fae dying was foreign concept to Sarah. She had thought they were immortal creatures, living forever and ever. In truth, according to the tome, they just aged at a much, much slower rate than humans. Fae could still be slain by wounds or poison; they were just built to endure more than an average human. And they were certainly not easy to kill off, as one chapter chronicled King Orson’s battle against a rival fae lord. The fight lasted almost 20 pages before King Orson sliced off the fae’s head.

Surprisingly, the former King’s autobiography hardly said anything about Jareth - a definite oddity, considering the two were family, if distant. The only times Jareth was mentioned were when he was born, and all the trickery he caused in the court. Other than that, nothing else was said.

King Orson wrote more about the many women he slept with, than his own heir.

Admittedly, Sarah was grateful that she didn’t have to read numerous passages about Jareth. He was the last person she wanted to think about. Three weeks wasn’t nearly enough time to heal those wounds. She closed the book for the night, placing it on the nightstand next to her bed.

How  _ was _ the Goblin King doing? Sarah had hardly seen him at all - which was likely for the better. Still, the niggling thought of him kept dancing in her head. That night was on a constant repeat in her mind.

“Stop thinking about him! It’s not doing you any good,” Sarah told herself. She took a pillow and covered her face with it, loudly groaning. It had been hard for her to sleep the past few days, for fear of the Goblin King attacking. Though for the most part, that fear had been dwindling, as she hadn’t seen him wandering the castle grounds for a while.

But there was one evening, just as the sun was setting, Sarah saw Jareth from one of the towers.

She had been up there for hours, being interviewed over and over by Rooster. By that point, Sarah was exhausted. Rooster’s interrogation skills mimicked those of a hard-boiled detective in pursuit of a murder suspect. She had merely glanced out of the tower window to see Jareth sitting by himself on a bench.

Beautiful roses surrounded the bench, coiling their thorny stems around the legs. Their color was a beautiful yellow dappled with splotches of reds and oranges. Even from such a distance, Sarah could see how lovely they looked. Rooster had then called her name, and once again they had to resume the exhausting questions.

Sarah sighed, begrudgingly sitting up in bed. She was still dressed in her now normal attire of a tunic and leggings, but her boots had been tossed off in a corner.  _ A walk around the gardens doesn’t sound bad.  _ Her gaze paused on her boots. No, that was a stupid idea. How could she think of something so naive? Her, alone in the gardens with no one really knowing where she was. And the Goblin King could be anywhere!

_ You can’t live in fear forever. _

No, she wouldn’t. Not anymore. If trouble arose, Sarah would be able to fight it off to an extent. The training she underwent would surely be enough to protect herself, if for a time. It also turns out she’s not that bad at handling a blade.

Her determination pushed away the lingering doubts.

Grabbing her dagger from its stash in her nightstand, Sarah slid off the bed, put on her boots, sheathing the dagger into the left boot’s shaft, and quietly left her room. She locked it behind her with the iron key, setting off on her journey to the gardens.

After many twists and turns, winding down several flights of stairs, Sarah found herself in the castle gardens. At night, the gardens were...magnificent. She wandered around, the wan glow of magical lilies guiding her path.

Sarah had found a book of plants indigenous to the Goblin Kingdom on the bookshelf in her room, where she’d discovered King Orson’s autobiography. Although she couldn’t recognize the language the book was written in, extremely detailed painted illustrations of all kinds of flowers adorned its pages. It was there she saw the lilies. The artist must have been quite fond of them, as a whole slew of images of that lily sprawled across two pages.

The flowers must’ve been in full bloom, as they were shining so brightly, Sarah didn’t need to borrow a torch. The walk was going to be a quick trip around a part of the gardens, and she would return back to her room soon enough, ready for bed.

_ Come on, feet!  _ Sarah cheered herself on, delving deeper into the gardens.

It was strange to see the Underground at night. Sarah was used to the usual sunrises and sunsets that would take over the skies, leaving the realm in a permanent dusty orange with how the colors lingered, not letting the sky remain a true blue.

But during the Witching Hours, it was pitch black, save for the stars in the sky looking like tiny, white speckles. Sarah paused at one of the lilies, cupping the flower in her hand gently as she bent down to take in its scent.

Much to her surprise, it didn’t smell like anything really. She shrugged and continued her walk, pacing her steps slow, the heels of her boots softly rapping against the cobblestone path. Sarah held her hands behind her back, rubbing her thumb on her knuckles.

_ How long will I have to be in the Underground? It’s already been over three weeks, and surely someone must know that I’m not around. How strong can magic be against memories?  _ Sarah paused. A rustling sound emanated from nearby. Her head tilted in the direction of the noise, crooning her ear to listen to it again. A small breath of a breeze whizzed by, gently tugging at her hair.

“..It was literally just the wind,” Sarah laughed, rolling her eyes, and continued her walk.  _ Still, Toby must know something is off. He’s been touched by magic, like I have. I gotta give him credit too, the kid’s a smart cookie. He’d be the only one to notice that I’ve disappeared without a word. _

Her heart sank. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she was back at her childhood house, eating cold Chinese leftovers with her family. After dinner, Sarah would put Toby to bed, making up a goofy bedtime story off the top of her head.

“God, I miss you, Toby,” she said aloud. Only the breeze answered, dancing amongst the bushes and shrubbery. She sighed, turning right at a corner. This path should lead her back to the castle.

Blocking the path ahead sat a wooden cottage, covered in all sorts of trinkets. Someone was home, as a light gently glowed from within the curtained windows, as well as a thin trail of smoke emitting from the chimney. If Sarah were to enter it, she would have to squat down to be able to go through the door. Suddenly it opened to reveal Hoggle, holding up a lantern and dressed in pajamas. His balding hair was covered by sleep cap.

“Sarah? Is that you? What are you doin’ out in the gardens so late?” Hoggle asked, bringing the lantern closer to Sarah’s face. “What’cha need, missy?”

“Oh, Hoggle, I’m sorry to disturb you,” Sarah said, a little upset at herself for troubling him. “I was just out for a walk. I misstepped and ended up at your cottage by mistake. I’m fine, really,” she explained to the dwarf.

Hoggle put a hand on his hip. “Well if you’re out wanderin’ around like a headless chicken, might as well invite you in for a cup.”

“A cup? A cup of what? Coffee? Tea?” Sarah asked, but her questions weren’t answered, as Hoggle was already re-entering his cottage. She hesitated for a moment, considering how she would approach the low doorway, let alone sit and visit. Crouching down, Sarah carefully managed her way to the door, entering the cottage.

To her surprise, the inside of the cottage was much larger, constructed in a way to allow human-sized visitors. It was a simple living space, with a basic smattering of rustic furniture. Atop the fireplace mantle was a plain, wooden box with a giant keyhole in the front of it.

Sarah stood up, rubbing her lower back. From the kitchen, the clinking and clashing of dishware echoed, along with disgruntled mutterings from Hoggle. “Aha! Found it!”

“Found what, Hoggle?” 

Instead of a reply, there was more clashing about in the kitchen.  _ What is he doing?  _

“I got it, I got it. Sit yerself down,” he shouted from the kitchen. “I’ll be out in a minute..”

Sarah obeyed, lowering herself down on a chair - half expecting it to break underneath her. Like everything else in the cottage, it was small, but was sturdy enough. “Hoggle, are you going to tell me what  _ exactly _ you’re making for me?”

“Give me a minute already! After all these years you’re still so impatient.” Hoggle tutted at the girl.

The dwarf finally emerged from the kitchen, two steaming cups of a black liquid in tow. Sarah hoped it was coffee. Her gut was telling her otherwise. The last time Hoggle had given her something to consume, it basically drugged her. However, it wasn’t his fault. Hoggle was just following orders from the Goblin King.

Sarah eyed the mug once more. She  _ was _ going to drink it, however, whether she liked it or not. Cautiously taking a sip, she swallowed down the mysterious liquid. Seconds later, she began to cough furiously. Her throat felt as if it were on fire. The burning sensation traveled down to the pit of her stomach, settling down to a duller pain.

“What the hell, Hoggle!?” Sarah snapped at him, her stare vengeful.

Hoggle casually took a large gulp of his own drink, resting the mug on his lap. “Just wait for it.”

“Wait for what? I’m literally on f- oh.  _ Oh.  _ Oh, my,” she breathed. The pain was now replaced with this tingling, icy sensation. It sent chills up Sarah’s neck, causing the small hairs to stick up on their own. The tips of her fingers felt frostbitten.. “What..is this, Hoggle?”

“Ice Whiskey. Consider it a present from me. You’re more than old enough to share a drink with an old friend,” Hoggle stretched out his short limbs, rolling his ankles in a circular motion. “Take it slow though. I dunno know how strong it is for humans. Even for us dwarves, this here is pretty rough liquor. At your age I was slammin’ these down every other night.”

Sarah was more than a little shocked. She never expected Hoggle to be a drinker, much less giving her fantastical alcohol to try. She hadn’t really ever thought about Hoggle being young either. He still was the same, old dwarf with an attitude (and ego) larger than the moon.

They sipped their drinks in silence, the fireplace’s crackling embers making for pleasant ambiance. Sarah heeded Hoggle’s word, taking each sip of the Ice Whiskey slowly and gently.

Each time she took a sip, the burning sensation would flare up for a moment before retreating back to the much more pleasant icy feel. The whiskey had a hint of mint leaf in it as well, but it was such a small dosage that Sarah hardly noticed it until she had drank half of the mug. She placed the mug on the small table in front of her.

That was enough of that for now. Her head began to spin, and if she wanted to head home in one piece, she better be sober enough to walk.

“You’re bein’ awfully quiet,” Hoggle commented. He did the same as Sarah, leaning over to place his mug on the table. Unlike hers, the mug was empty. “Somethin’ bothering you?”

“You’re not talking either,” Sarah shot back, sticking her tongue out. “Not really. I feel fine, for the most part. I’ve just been having trouble sleeping - but that’s nothing too serious.”

“Long ago, I told you ‘should you need anythin’’, and you never called me. I’m still offerin’ that to you, Sarah,” he said, patting her knee.

“Hoggle, I...” Sarah’s voice trailed off. The memory of her smashing her vanity mirror came back in flashes. Throwing the clock. The shards of the mirror flying around her. The fear of the Goblin King returning to snatch Toby from her again.

Everything.

“I only wanted to protect Toby. Please understand that. I - I didn’t know what was going to happen after. I was a young girl back then, and my world was turned upside down with temptation and dreams.” She rambled on and on, repeating the same phrases over and over again. Tears stung her eyes. Another drunken breakdown.

The dwarf watched her, reaching out a hand then pulling back. He was not used to comforting others, let alone a sobbing human girl. Why did he decide that drinking would be alright? How stupid was he? Hoggle reached out his hand once more, placing it on her shoulder. “Sarah, it’s okay. You don’t need to cry. I’m not that upset over you not callin’ me. Besides, that was  _ years  _ ago. Didn’t even half expect you to call me.”

Sarah wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. It was a small comfort for her to hear Hoggle’s words. God, what a mess she was. Crying in front of Hoggle. “I think I should go back to my room for the night, Hoggle. I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

“Now, now. I told’ya ‘should you need me.’ You need me right now, and you’re my friend,” Hoggle squeezed her shoulder once more. “Let me walk you back to the castle. Least I can do.”

Suddenly, an alarm began to blare from the castle. Shrieks and cries rallied together. The rustling of armor and waddling goblins preparing themselves with weapons rang out from the walls.

“What the hell is going on?” Hoggle muttered to himself. “Somethin’s not right here. C’mon, Sarah, let’s go to the castle.”

Sarah nodded, following the dwarf out of his cottage.

* * *

Jareth awoke to multiple goblins pounding on his bedchamber’s doors. He rushed out of bed, wrapping a bathrobe around his weathered body. As he pulled the door ajar, a couple of the goblins stumbling over each other. At least a dozen of them had gathered at his door, pleading for their king, eyes wide with shock.

“Your Majesty! Another Goblin guard has come back,” One spoke, his voice trembling.

“He’s not alone, Kingy. One ‘a dem cult members is creepin’ ‘bout. Got a leash or sumthin’ ‘round ‘is neck,” another chimed.

“There’s somethin’ not right about this...” a third whispered. He wasn’t sure if he was addressing the king or himself.

“Bring them to the throne room at once. We will deal with this properly.” Jareth ordered the goblins. They all bowed, rushing out of the way. The Goblin King slammed the door, stomping over to his writing desk.

How dare they. 

How  _ DARE  _ they parade themselves at  _ his  _ castle. Waiting at the gates like begging mutts for food scraps. Is that damned cult really that stupid to come here?  _ How foolish can they really be?  _ The cult visiting wasn’t some innocent accident. This was a power move - an attempt to spread rumors of a weak king.

This was the second time in his sprawling lifetime Jareth had felt this much anger.

It bubbled over, sparks coiling at his fingertips. That cultist would feel his wrath -  _ all of it _ . Jareth would make an example out of him for the others. His current actions against the cult must not have been convincing enough.

Tonight will change that. He was King! A king must not bow down to the common folk.

Jareth grabbed at a bottle of thistlewink potion, gulping it all down. He dropped the empty vial, sending it careening to the floor, where it shattered. Thousands of pieces scattered across the floor like so many glass spiders.  _ I must not show them how weak I am. _

He dressed in his most fearsome attire, enhancing the sharpness of his facial features. At this moment, all the world was his stage - and Jareth the main character of the show. Tonight would not be his final performance.

A final sweep of a gloved hand, and he was in front of the iron gates. “Raise them,” he barked at the guards.

Slowly, they cranked the gears, and the gate slowly withdrew upward. They creaked and rattled in protest, the ancient machinery older than Jareth himself. The Goblin King backed away, allowing the two figures to enter. Sarah and Hoggle stood amidst the growing crowd behind the Goblin King. Ahead, Sarah noticed Rooster and Tilly standing towards the front.

Sarah took a step forward, thinking she should be up there with them, but then retracted it.  _ It’s better to be lost in the crowd for now _ . From Sarah’s position, the Goblin King looked incredibly tense, ready to strike at the two figures. One of them stood, clutching a rope that connected to the other figure. The latter was on all fours, crawling like a dog.

Once the gate was fully raised, they began to approach the crowd. The standing figure had to tug the rope to make the second move an inch. It stayed put, letting itself be dragged by the standing figure.

“It’s...one of the missing guards!” a goblin cried out from the crowd. Whispers and murmurs were hushed in an instant. Silence befell all who witnessed the scene. Watching the duo come closer and closer. Never had the goblins seen one of their own kind act so barbaric. Once the fallen goblin guard caught sight of Jareth, he howled. The cultist held tighter on the rope, continuing to drag the poor creature.

The guard feared Jareth.

The Goblin King raised a hand, “You may stop right there. Approach any closer and you will face an eternity in an oubliette.”

The hooded one stopped, bowing his head formally. Most of his face was obscured by the blackened robes he wore, almost oversized for his body. Long, pointed ears stuck through the hood, too large to be contained within the fabric. Beady, bloodshot eyes peeked through the obscurity. “I’ve brought a gift for Your Majesty. Consider it a token of peace between us Children and yourself.”

Jareth bellowed a fearsome laugh, the goblins behind him repeating the action. He raised his hand again to silence them. “I didn’t know mad goblins were considered tokens of peace. In fact, he behaves more like a dog.”

“A king treating his subjects in such a way... Tut tut. What have you become, Jareth?”

A few brave goblins dared to chuckle at the cultist’s joke - or were too stupid to realize the danger of laughing at an enemy of the Goblin King.

A temple pulsed on Jareth’s forehead. He merely smirked at the cult member, head tilted to the side. “What is your true purpose? Your  _ kind  _ hardly dwells outside my Labyrinth. I must admit, this is some kind of honor to receive the pleasure of your company.”

The cult member matched his coolness, but Jareth could tell he was tensed up  _ ever _ so slightly - the muscle movement so minute that no common folk could have caught it.

“Your King has asked you a question.”

“Our Mother. The human has returned, hasn’t she?” the cult member stated. His demeanor was almost childlike. His fingers fidgeted the rope, coiling the loose ends around his knuckles. “She’s here in the crowd. I can almost see her.”

Sarah’s stomach dropped, the mumblings and stares growing.  _ Mother? _

“Uh oh. Time to get outta here,” Hoggle said, tugging Sarah’s hand.

“Mother?” Sarah repeated, aloud this time. “Hoggle, what is that supposed to mean?”

“Never you mind that. I should’nt’ve brought you here. Damn it!” The dwarf murmured, tugging once again at Sarah’s hand. He was desperate to leave the scene. More goblins began to whisper.

“The Mother!”

A crooked, wrinkled finger pointed at Sarah. The cultist had spotted Sarah as she fled the growing discourse of the crowd. His hand wavered, Sarah’s eyes meeting his own. “Oh, the Mother has returned! The prophecy is coming to fruition! Long live the Mother of the Labyrinth!”

The hooded one continued to chant this, a few goblins from the crowd joining in as well. Jareth kept turning around at all sides, the chanting swarming him like flies. He had lost what little control he had. Why did that damnable dwarf bring Sarah here?

“Take her away from here!” Jareth barked at Hoggle, and Sarah was pulled away before comprehending the situation.

_What the hell is going on?_ _Cult members? Mother? Prophecy? What did this all mean? And why didn’t Tilly and Rooster tell me anything about this cult?_

Sarah felt a knot growing in her stomach. She didn’t know what to expect, what to look forward to, what to fear. All she knew for certain was that her situation was about to escalate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? A new chapter? After many moons? Huzzah, I've finally completed the next chapter! And I don't know when chapter 10 will be out. One thing, I feel like I have to address, is that this is going to be a long, long fanfic. I'm talking about having maybe 70 chapters of fantasy and writing out the characters of the labyrinth for my own whims. (Watch this maybe stop at 36 lol)
> 
> Which means that it's going to be kind of a slow build. I'm having trouble setting the actions in motion, because I feel there is so much left to tell. I'm sorry it's taking so long to really get anywhere with this fanfic, believe me, it's why I was having trouble with this chapter. The next chapter will have more, now that I'm finally at a place where I can start getting to the thick of it. Please, be patient with me. 
> 
> This fanfic also kind of is exhausting to write. I want to write other, little tidbits and not be focused on this solely. At first, that was my goal. I wanted to only write this and be done, but I've found out in order to keep me writing and motivated, I have to work on other ideas and plots swirling in my head.
> 
> Thank you for all the hits, kudos, and comments. See you all in the next chapter. :)


	10. Chapter 10

The goblin couldn't remember much.

His mind was trapped in the state of feverish haze; scraps of memories pounded at the front of his skull. They came in throbbing flashes - mostly of mundane days when he was a small child. Always being scolded for not emptying the chamber pots in the morning. Faces were blurred, scrambled blobs with voices muffled.

His sight was gone; what little was left of his eyes covered with a ragged piece of cloth. There was no point in concealing his blindness - it was more for his captors to avoid looking at his empty eye sockets.

Did the Labyrinth do this to him? Carve out his eyes so willingly? Why did the Labyrinth need his eyes?

He thought he could recall the moment he had stepped into the Labyrinth, the fear lapping deep in his chest, hands trembling around the grips of his iron lance. His mount beneath him was refusing to move, too stubborn to heed his direction of forward. The last thing he heard was the clink of rusty armor from the other guards, before waking up bound like a freshly-hunted animal with eyes plucked.

His captors also deemed his sorry state amusing enough to treat him in the same manner. He was like a wild boar stuck in its pen, prodded and poked at like a toy. They began throwing scraps of onions at him, their rotten stench burning the hairs in his nostrils. All around him was that godawful stench, stalking him like a vengeful apparition as he was moved from place to place. That foul smell of onions was his companion by force, sucking what life and hope he had left, until he was utterly dead inside - an empty shell of his former self.

And after all this time - what felt like years - still the smell of onions made him flinch. The perfect metaphor for his imprisonment. Never again would the goblin breathe in the scent of flowers, freshly baked dirt-bread, his mother's infamous mud pies.

Mother.

Did he even have a mother? There was a familiar, feminine voice echoing in his ears - the one that scolded him. Was that her? His leathery tongue slid across his chapped lips. A low, husky rumble emerged from his throat, unable to form the word. It had been some time since he had spoken, being beaten into an obedient silence when he would make a noise.

"Muh…"

He licked his lips again, concentrating hard. "Muhda. Muhda... muhda!" The corners of his mouth twitched, and he rocked his little body to and fro. His poor, bastardized version of that word, 'Mother,' brought a savoring of joy, exciting him beyond what comprehension he had left.

When was the last time happiness had struck him? This foreign concept wracked his poor mind.

"Muhda. Muhda. Muhda. Muhda. Muhda," the goblin was chanting, the speed of his rocking increasing. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. Nothing else mattered more than the word. He had to keep repeating it; saving the last drop of sanity in his wretched skull. Foam leaked from his mouth, dripping to the ground.

There came a sudden tug on his leash, and a smack rapped the back of his head. He hissed, cradling his head in his arms. The goblin was submissive, breathing heavily. Chains rattled near him, though he paid them no mind. 'Muhda' was in the depths of his tiny soul, whatever was left of it.

If miserable creatures like him still had souls in the first place.

His hands dug at the rope around his throat, scratching and pulling in an attempt to break it off. The enticing taste of freedom grew so sweet, cleansing his palette of its bitterness. If he could only claw harder... There was a possibility of running far, far away from this torment.

The rope was thick, wounded tightly as a makeshift collar. His desperation grew, each swipe of gnarled, disgusting fingernails digging into the woven fibers. One nail broke off, leaving his finger a bloody mess. A howling cry seized the goblin, his sobbing unable to bring cathartic tears to his featureless eye sockets. Nearby, the goblin heard fabric rustling, and he sobbed harder.

The goblin caused trouble, and punishment terrified him. Punishment had taken two fingers away.

The rope coiled around his little neck harder, dragging his form across the floor. Rough cobblestones skidded across his craggy, dry skin, reopening old wounds. He screamed again, sputtering gargled yowls of pain.

Harsh whispers were exchanged - spat with poison, speaking in a language the goblin did not understand. But the dialogue's venomous tone itself was enough to stir a nameless fear within him.

He fruitlessly peered upwards, in the direction from where he was hit. The Labyrinth did this to him. Some hellish, demonic presence did this to him, delivering what was left of his body to these mysterious, horrible people. Most likely, he would die alongside the bricks and dust of the Labyrinth. No one had come searching for him, and no one ever would.

The notion set his soul ablaze, and once more the goblin cried out. He cried for his mother, he cried for his sorry state, and he cried for the lost dream of home.

But the tears never came.

* * *

Sarah lifted the lantern higher, tilting her head slightly upwards to study the tunnels' roof. The pungent odor of death leaked from the Labyrinth into the tunnels, but during her prolonged stay, she had managed to finally get used to it. The stench became just as common as the scent of baked bread.

The past hour or so had blurred together in her mind. First, she was running with Hoggle away from the crowd—the goblins jeering, gleefully watching the cultist get dragged to the oubliettes. Then, she had left the sanctuary of Rooster's study when he and Tilly began to bicker over whose fault it was in not telling Sarah about the cult. It was better to not stick around, especially when the fighting had brought back repressed memories of her parents fighting before they finally divorced.

Lost in her thoughts, and overcome by the need to be alone, Sarah had found herself pushing her bed aside to crawl into the tunnels below. Being alone in her room was not satisfying the need to escape people. Like a rat, she had scurried through the familiar path, purposefully making a couple of wrong turns. Before long, she had found herself completely lost.

Not that it was a _bad_ thing in the moment.

If she retraced her steps, perhaps she would be able to find herself back on the path to her chambers. _Or find my rotten corpse years later_ , she added bitterly. Scoffing, she shook her head.

Dark thoughts aren't going to better the situation.

Sarah kicked a stray pebble with the side of her boot, watching it bounce away into the neverending darkness ahead. Muffled voices began to shout at each other in the distance, before the tunnels returned to deadly silence.

Curiosity overtook her common sense to turn back, and she continued forward. Her steps were near silent; her attention only focused on the source of the voices. Whoever was behind these stone walls could be a clue to her location. If she hadn't been so quiet in her pace, her ears would have missed a conversation. Or so she believed - no words were easily recognizable.

This continued for several seconds, and she found herself leaning against the carved stone, stopping suddenly when the creatures spoke again. Sarah bit her lip, pressing her ear into the wall. Despite her careful listening there were no distinguishable words, causing her to let out a soft huff.

Damn it.

Her eyebrows furrowed together in frustration as she resumed her gait. Why was she getting so worked up about the source of the noise? More than likely, it was the goblins bickering at each other over something meaningless as usual. Then again, they were all children, once upon a time. Their behavior wasn't terribly unexpected. Her grip tightened on the lantern's handle, reminded of how she almost allowed Toby to be turned into a goblin himself because of her reckless behavior.

At least she had ensured his safety - or, at least, she hoped. As long as Sarah was connected to her brother, he was susceptible to the Goblin King's wrath. Really, anyone she had a relationship with: her friends, new and old; her family; classmates. Her newfound role as the balance between the Above and the Underground was the price of having a fairly harmless escape from the Goblin King years ago.

Her stomach began to coil in a tense knot, and her pace quickened, tuning out her thoughts by fixating on how her boots echoed through the enclosed space. Her eyes studied the floor ahead, finding nothing of interest.

Sarah didn't know how long she was dissociating when her head suddenly collided against a wooden door. "Shit!" She winced at the forming bump on her head. _Next time it'll be my nose_ , remembering the dream she had of Jareth. Placing the lantern on the ground, she rubbed her head, biting her lip to fight back tears. _Yup, that'll be sore for awhile_. Rooster might have some kind of tea for head welts - if she had only turned back sooner.

Knocking her head on the door allowed common sense to finally return, and she picked up the lantern, ready to turn around. The light of the flame shone against the door, and, just barely, she had caught the chicken-scratches carved into the wood.

" **Knok 3 times fur prisiners"**

She studied the 'writing,' rubbing the sore spot on her head. Without really thinking of the consequences, Sarah knocked on the door exactly three times. Perhaps it was due to the headache, or out of curiosity as a distraction from current events, she didn't know why she knocked.

"Which one?" A gruff voice bellowed from behind the door.

Sarah froze for a second, not sure of how to respond. "I…"

"Which one?" the voice repeated, the tone hinting at annoyance.

"The cultist who was brought in earlier," she replied, poorly attempting to shift her voice down to a lower octave. "I have special orders from His Majesty to _enquire_ information."

"Enter."

The door unlatched itself, the hinges groaning as it opened itself up to her. Sarah tentatively walked through, finding herself in a filthy cell. Before she was able to take in her surroundings, the door shut itself behind her, disappearing into the cold, cobblestone walls.

Her arm raised the lantern higher still, trying to provide the cell with more light than it currently had. Moldy stacks of straw clung to the corners, sinking into the shadows. A thin glint of moonlight pierced through a tiny hole of a window with steel bars welded across it to guarantee even the smallest of prisoners no chance to escape.

The sound of chains rattling crept from the far corner; the one completely encased in darkness. A familiar, hooded figure slunk out of the shadows, stalking towards Sarah. Hands reached out, trembling as he fully came into view of her.

"My prayers...my prayers have been answered!" he whispered hoarsely. Though much of his face was darkened thanks to the hood he wore, his bloodshot eyes expressed all the desperation and relief in the world. The creature sank to his knees, holding his arms outstretched towards her. "Mother, you have come to release me."

Sarah arched a puzzled eyebrow, licking her bottom lip as she took in the cult member's display of affection. An idea shot through her, the abruptness almost staggering.

She could manipulate him to guide her through the Labyrinth. There is a reason the cultists are able to travel completely unscathed. Perhaps she could unravel a secret or two - if he was only willing to part with them.

Her mind blanked on how to address him; part of her worried about his reaction if she were to say the wrong thing. She glanced at the chains handcuffed to his wrists, the pale greenish skin tightly wound around his knuckles. The dagger Tilly had given her was hidden in her boot, but she might not be able to get out in time.

Those chains better do their job.

"I just wanted to talk, if you don't mind that." Her voice was soft, soothing the trembles on his body. Sarah talked to the creature as she would with Toby before his bedtime.

"Of course!" he nodded his head too eagerly, plopping down on the ground. His hand motioned for her to do the same. "I apologize that we are meeting in these conditions, Mother. If circumstances were better, I would have offered you a beverage."

"Please, don't apologize. I appreciate your humility. As you mentioned, the circumstances will be better soon, but unfortunately, I cannot bring that upon us so soon." She sat on her knees, setting the lantern on the floor between herself and the creature. The light of flame was still not enough to make out any sort of facial features. It only brought out how haggard his eyes looked, the dancing of the flame reflecting in his glassy irises.

The cult member nodded once more, slower this time. "Yes, these objectives are of a delicate sort, and take time. I had only thought I would be escaping tonight." His head lowered in disappointment. He jolted it back up, looking deep into Sarah's eyes. "But I am still honored by your visit! This is a historical moment for us Children. The prophecy had foretold of this very moment between us, although it never said that _I_ would be the chosen one to speak with you. Nonetheless, I am still very much honored!"

 _The_ prophecy _again_! The cultist had shouted that at her earlier. Finally, she had the chance to make sense of things. "I'm afraid I do not have the pleasure of fully knowing the prophecy. My, er, _captors_ have not mentioned any word of it to me." _In fact, they were just fighting about it_ , she silently added.

He scratched the top of his head, slinging bitter mumbles between 'of course they didn't's and 'fools's. "Poetics escape me, as I usually do have the opportunity to recite it. O Mother, forgive me for my stupidity!" He wailed, flailing his arms in agony.

"No, no!" Sarah grasped his wrists. "I don't care about how beautifully it's told. Just tell it to me as best you can - and your name. Mother asks for so little."

Once again, his whole mood changed, once again awestruck at her. "My name is Leeras."

"Leeras. That's a nice name. Now, the prophecy... If you please, Leeras." She gingerly released his wrists, trying not to grimace as his crooked fingers stroked her palms.

"There was a prophecy told years and years ago, forgotten by most of the Underground due to constant war and death. The prophecy didn't escape us Children, however! It spoke of a human able to champion over the Labyrinth and the Goblin King. If they were able to do so, that human would become the ruler over the Underground, able to harness the power of the Labyrinth. Of course, there were humans able to solve the Labyrinth, but unable to solve the riddle of the Goblin King.

"Six years ago, after you defeated the monstrous Goblin King and rescued the child, you created a crack, a divide in his power. That crack has shifted the power of the Labyrinth from the Goblin King to you. As his life force diminishes, your control over the Labyrinth is growing steadily. Soon, Jareth will succumb to his madness, and nothing of the person he once was will remain. All there will be is you.

"The goal of us Children is to ensure your safety, Mother, as there are those with dark intent wanting to stop you from obtaining power. Why do you think the rumors of a marriage between you and the Goblin King exist? It's nothing but a ruse - a guise to murder you and stop the prophecy from becoming fulfilled."

He paused, tilting his head to study every inch of her skin. "He has already hurt you, hasn't he?"

Sarah didn't respond, her face blank as she pushed down the growing dread in her chest. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that we need to escape, back into the Labyrinth, right?" She changed the subject, forcing a smile to twitch the corners of her lips. "I'm surprised you're able to walk through the Labyrinth without any harm coming to you."

"You protect us, Mother. We follow the path you paved to lead us to the places we need to go." Leeras explained.

Finally! Some information to take back to Rooster and Tilly. She already had more than plenty to talk about with them. Her plan was beginning to fully take shape. All she needed to do now was lay the pieces to fit.

"Would you be able to take me to where the Children are, Leeras?" she asked him carefully. "Again, it will take some time. I need to be able to plan my own escape, as well as yours."

"Certainly! I would be honored to escort you."

"And if I brought others with me?"

" _Others?!_ " Leeras squawked, his demeanor changing almost instantaneously to disgust. "I cannot trust those who dwell with the Goblin King. I will not have the chance of spies in a party with us, and risk endangering the prophecy."

Sarah had hit a wall. "Those who will be with us are most trusted friends of mine. They only have to obey the Goblin King in order to protect me from harm. I can assure you, they will not betray us."

The cult member's disdain wavered, but it still wasn't enough to break through. "I want to trust Mother, but it is still too risky for my taste. Maybe if you were able to bring them to meet me…"

"I will give you a token for their trust," she quipped, her memory of having to coerce Hoggle prominent. Though she didn't have a plastic bracelet, there had to be _something_ to sway Leeras over. Sarah brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear, deep in thought, when she lit up. "Would a lock of my hair suffice?"

"Any part of you, Mother, is a holy relic."

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

Concealing the knee-jerk disgust at his remark, she pulled the dagger out of her boot in one swift motion, and grabbed part of her hair from behind her ear. Carefully, the blade sliced through, until she had a loose lock of hair held between her thumb and forefinger. Leeras grabbed at the lock as greedily as any goblin, fumbling his bony fingers through the strands. Or so Sarah thought, before he produced a thin braid, struggling to tie it around his ankle.

A door swung open, and the sound of heavy footsteps coming closer each second. "I have to go - but I will try to be back again," she half-promised Leeras, uncertain if she would be able to return to his cell.

How was _she_ going to leave the cell?

Snatching the lantern from the floor, Sarah scrambled to the spot where the other door disappeared and knocked on the cobblestone three times. The portal reappeared, swinging itself open once again. Sarah dove back into the tunnels, shutting the door quickly and quietly in her wake. The door locked itself, and she slid down to the ground, panting in relief. Pressing her ear to the door, curiosity made her wonder if she would be able to hear anything from the other side.

But nothing was heard. The only sound was the drum of her heartbeat echoing in her head.

"Now it's time to find my way back," she mumbled to herself, standing up and brushing the dust off her leggings. Holding the lantern up once more, she wandered through the tunnels in reverse, hoping at least Rooster and Tilly were done fighting, and were searching for her.

* * *

Silence, at last, befell Tilly and Rooster.

Neither of them knew what to say anymore. The past hour had seen them screaming back and forth, each trying to place the blame on the other over not telling Sarah about the cult. Frustrations were let out, and old grudges came back as weapons to jab at pride. One thing led to another, and now, Rooster had a fresh handprint marring his cheek, burning red with anger.

"Slapping me isn't going to fix any of our problems," Rooster spat, cupping his cheek.

"It's better than whatever _you've_ been doing for _six years_ ," Tilly shot back, the hand responsible trembling. "I've done more for the Underground, for Jareth, than you ever will!"

"You can't even _begin_ to understand what I've been doing for the past six years. For the sake of the Underground, I've been slaving away at every little whim Jareth demands of me, while you've been off playing as a cat." Rooster turned away from the fae.

He hated when they fought over such trivial matters. Tilly being Fae, her kind weren't known for their emotional openness. They let emotions control their actions, bubbling over the brim, and wars logically tend to follow. Small wonder Jareth had such a hunger for Sarah. He must've fallen hard six years ago. The dwarf let out a sigh, praying for this ridiculous bickering to be over with.

"Oh, so you don't think I've done anything? Do you _want_ to take another look at my back? Miss a scar or two?" Tilly said, as she started to unbutton her vest.

Rooster jerked his body around, and reached out to grab Tilly's wrists. "No, we aren't doing this again."

"I just think you need a little reminder on what I went through _for you_." Her words were eerily calm, which only added to Rooster's frustrations.

"And I'm sorry about that, Tilly! I can never, _ever_ fucking repay you, but please...Tilly. Tilly, my love," his voice softened, gently letting go of her wrists. "My love, I will go to the depths of Hell for you. This world we live in is awash in a sea of blood and evil. You are the guiding North Star that leads me to the promised land of safety and comfort. I don't know what I would do with myself if you were no longer a part of my life."

"Then why don't you trust me?"

"Tr-trust you?! Tilly, I trust you with my life! You are always the first to know my business," Rooster spat. He couldn't believe such nonsense. Of course there were matters concerning the King that had to be kept private - nevertheless, he was as open as possible with Tilly.

"You didn't tell me about the first guard that was found. Do you know who I had to find that out from?" the fae roared, turning about-face and stomping over to a wooden table laden with piles of parchment. With a sweep of her hand, the piles collapsed, fluttering to the stone floor. "I had to find it out from Jareth himself, when he asked me about how the ex-guard was coping with being moved from beneath his throne to _the dungeons_!"

"It's not like I was doing it on purpose! I simply forgot to mention it. And it's not like you've not done the same thing before. Don't play the part of a hypocrite, it doesn't suit you very well," Rooster retorted, eyeing the scattered parchment.

_Cleaning that up later will be horribly tedious._

"I knew him, Rooster! I knew the guard before he was labeled Dirt! I knew his name - which, by the way, since you didn't even bother finding out what his name was - _it's Trauf!_ And I knew his family. For _six years_ they've been grieving over him like he was dead!" Tilly shouted back, tears welling up in her eyes. She wiped them away furiously, muttering curses.

"You wouldn't understand, Tilly…" Rooster started, but had to dodge an incoming book hurtling toward him.

"You don't understand what I'm going through!"

"No, I don't, because _**you don't let me in**_."

The dwarf pulled out a nearby wooden chair, sitting down on it and crossing his arms. "Now, we're going to sit down like proper adults, and we will work out our problems. No more screaming, or hitting, or throwing things. If we're going to have a functional relationship with each other, it's going to have to be like this for _every_ argument. I will not deal with another fae's temper tantrum. I already have to deal with _one._ "

Tilly stood still for a moment, then nodded. Quietly, she grabbed another chair, taking her time. The chair's leg dragged against the flooring, rattling and groaning. The fae finally sat down, her hands folded together in her lap. "Let's talk."

Rooster cleared his throat. He wasn't precisely sure what to say to her next. It seemed like a miracle that Tilly was being so compliant. Then again, their past arguments had never ended this peacefully.

"Now," he treaded carefully, "think _logically_ about this. We're very busy people working under the King. Our lives currently consist of waiting on Jareth hand and foot - and always by the whim of his demands. We have no forewarning of what nonsense he requests us to obey. Mistakes are bound to happen now and then."

"However, our lives depend on being able to complete each task he gives us. If we mess up... say I do so much as give incorrect information to Jareth by accident. _I get into serious trouble_." Tilly's voice strained, and she began to fidget with the hem of her tunic. "We have very different jobs and tasks. You're mostly an advisor and mage while I'm just a glorified grunt."

"That's not true, Tilly."

"It is!" Tilly's words echoed in the chamber, causing her to flinch once she realized how loudly she had raised her voice. Once glance to Rooster showed plainly his disapproval. "It is. You spend most of your days as a doctor, researching a cure for the King while I'm out doing the dirty work." She ran a hand through her hair, sighing again. "I was gone from the Underground for several weeks at a time pretending to be an animal."

Rooster hadn't considered the notion at all. Of course, Tilly would return to the Underground for frequent reports, but they were just that. Frequent and brief, before dashing back quickly enough to ensure that Sarah hadn't noticed Tilly ever left.

Still, spare time was enough time to at least mention it in passing.

But then again, the idea of mentioning a returned goblin guard, held captive within Jareth's secret underground chambers that Rooster was entirely unaware of, seemed to be worth a conversation.

"Again, I'm sorry that I didn't mention it. I fully know I should have before, my love, but..," His hands clasped together, and his shoulders slumped. "It didn't. Nothing is going to change the past. We royally fucked up. The best thing we can do now is to make sure we don't repeat our actions."

Tilly nodded. "I understand why you didn't tell me. I get it. I am still hurting on the inside. A lot of my pain and stress gets buried until it explodes. I can't... _emote_ myself very well. There's always going to be something 'off' about me, if that makes sense..." She paused, licking her lips. "I also feel guilty for knowing information about the cult, and not telling Sarah. How does one really go about that? 'Hey, there's this goblin cult who believes in a prophecy that has you ruling the Labyrinth!'"

"I don't know, Tilly. We weren't really supposed to bring up the cult anyway. No wonder it slipped from our minds." He let out a dry laugh. "If I may be so bold, all our troubles are rooted in the King. Once this is all over - if it's _ever_ over - let's elope, and run far, far away from the Underground."

"Rooster, you're a hopeless romantic."

"You made me into one. I'd never do half the things I do currently if it wasn't for you being a constant thorn in my side."

"Could you get me a cup of water, _petit chou-fleur_?" Tilly hid a smile, knowing full well what she was calling the dwarf.

With an exasperated groan, Rooster slid out of the wooden chair. The tension in the air was finally cracking. He glanced aside as he got up to the small bed in the corner, too small for both of them to lay side-by-side upon. Perhaps tonight, that bed would creak again. It was an ongoing joke between the two that if they fucked hard enough, the bed would finally fall apart.

Rooster's heart swelled at the thought as he fetched a teacup from the shelf. His cheeks were already flushed, remembering how _long_ it had been since the two of them had enjoyed-

A knock came from the door.

Gods damnit.

"I'm _busy._ Come back in the morning please," he yelled towards the door, already rubbing his temples in preparation for another of Jareth's ridiculous demands.

"Oh, that's fine. Have a good night then." It was Sarah's voice.

"Wait - no! Hold on a moment," he lowered his voice. "Would you be alright with her coming in?"

"Yeah, I don't mind. It's getting late anyway, I should head back to my quarters. Whatever she tells you, you can tell me in the morning. Crying made me exhausted." She stood up, stretching her arms up, neck tilting back and forth. Her joints made a crackling noise, causing the fae to let out a satisfied purr.

"Don't you want the water first, before you go?" Rooster asked, holding out the cup, slightly desperate for her to stay longer. Tiny waves of magic surrounded the cup as it slowly filled itself up with water conjured from the castle's wells.

Tilly took the cup in her hands, gulping it down in seconds with a sigh. She ruffled his hair, kissing the top of his head before handing it back to him. "Sweet dreams, little one." Rooster opened his mouth in protest, but she was already walking towards the door, opening it wide open for Sarah. "Evenin'." She was about to leave before Sarah grabbed her forearm to stop her, looking at the two of them.

"Can we talk, please? I'm not mad at either one of you. I just want to talk about what happened." asked Sarah, letting go of Tilly as she stepped into the room.

Rooster darted his eyes around his room, the mess difficult to ignore. "Erm, yeah. Let me pick up a few things here and there," he mumbled, hurrying his little body to scramble the fallen papers into somewhat neat piles. The cup was tossed aside. "Tilly, would you mind getting another chair? I should have a stool or something in the corner."

"Here, let me help," Sarah bent down to help the dwarf pick up the parchments, plucking each one in her arms. For someone who learned they were an idol of a cult, she was handling the fact pretty well. She seemed calm, perhaps not having the news fully settled. It was a better reaction than before, with Jareth's ill-fated obsession. "Where do you want me to put them?"

Rooster took the pile of papers from her, glancing down at them to see what notes he'd written on them. Nothing of real importance was printed. Why'd he keep so much trash around? If he had a spare moment, he really needed to sit down and sort through all of it. Despite his realization, he placed the papers on his desk - to remember to look through them instead of skimming them.

More than likely he'd forget all about them.

Tilly brushed dust off the stool, placing it down between the two chairs. She for sure wasn't sitting there, grabbing the wooden chair she sat in previously and plopped her butt down, crossing her arms.

Sarah continued to stand, her eyes lively. Excitement was brimming, her fingers unable to stop fidgeting. "I think I figured out a way into the Labyrinth, and a way to return back to the Goblin City."

Tilly and Rooster glanced at each other, but remained silent to let Sarah continue.

"That cult member was imprisoned, right? Why don't we just use him as a guide in the Labyrinth? He has some kind of power where he can freely travel within without being harmed. He managed to find his way to the castle - why not have him lead us back to wherever the cult is located?" She looked at the two, her eyes pleading. "Have you guys not tried that yet?"

"Well, erm…" Rooster scratched his chin. "We _have_ thought of doing that; however-"

"Jareth wouldn't let us. Not with what happened to the guards six years ago. He doesn't want to lose any more men," Tilly chimed in. "He won't let us into the Labyrinth - especially you, Sarah. You're supposed to be the Goblin Queen, remember? That's your 'true purpose' in the Underground." Her lips twitched into a sarcastic smile as she absentmindedly picked a flake of skin off her fingertip, next to the nail.

Sarah swallowed, nodding her head. "I'm aware, but he's never brought it up. Perhaps he's forgotten about it." She laughed dryly. Not a whisper was breathed of the supposed wedding since Jareth's assault. Perhaps luck was on her side, and the Goblin King really did forget all about marrying her. "I know this plan seems foolish, but please, let me continue."

"Anything to help the King will be heard loud and clear," admitted Rooster.

"Somehow, we can convince the cultist to lead us to his buddies. Considering how he acted around me earlier, he seems more than willing to listen to me. I'm just not sure if he would trust you two. Especially with how you both work closely with the King. His hatred for this cult isn't exactly a secret." Sarah hesitated, anxiously running a hand through her hair. "So, I came up with an idea that might win him over."

"Which is…?" Tilly raised an eyebrow, once again folding her arms across her chest.

"I tell him that you guys are interested in joining the cult, seeing the 'truth', or whatever nonsense they believe in."

Rooster's chambers grew quiet. The only sound heard was the crackling of embers.

"I know it's incredibly dangerous."

"And incredibly stupid! Your plan is nothing but a guaranteed death for _all of us_ ," Tilly said, her eyelids narrowed to slits. "Have you thought about what we would do _after_ the cultist leads us to the rest of his little friends, huh? What'dya think would happen if they found out we weren't so keen on joining up? And you! Who knows what they'll do to you."

"I'm willing to risk it," Sarah's voice was low. "How much time do we have left before the Goblin King wastes away? Those potions Rooster brews are temporary. Here we have a chance to solve the problem at its core. I don't understand why you all aren't jumping to give my plan a try."

"I have to agree with Tilly," sighed Rooster. "Your plan does sound it would be worth an attempt, but I'm afraid it's too risky to fully go through with it."

"Well," Sarah started to say, lifting up her hair. At first glance, nothing seemed amiss, but when he peered closer, he noticed that one part of her hair was unevenly sliced off. "I'm afraid I already made a deal with our new friend, Leeras. He's already promised me, and you two, to lead us safely through the Labyrinth to where the cult is - if we help him escape from Jareth. With more _persuasion,_ and him lost in his idolization of me, I'm safely assuming he won't be backing out of his deal anytime soon."

"How...did you…?" Rooster stammered, at a loss for words. Tilly's eyes nearly popped out of her skull with how wide they had gotten.

Sarah explained her ordeal, how she had come across a door in the tunnels that led her to find Leeras, to their conversation on some prophecy neither Rooster or Tilly had heard of, and now, her plan on how all four of them would escape from the castle to the Labyrinth.

"We don't leave right away. Instead, we leave, say, around a month from now - to avoid suspicion. I can visit the cultist a couple more times to squeeze out more information. Rooster can brew up enough potions to quell Jareth's demons while we're out in the Labyrinth. If we all work together, this just might save the Underground." She crossed her arms, arching an eyebrow at the two. "What do you two think?"

"Eh... I'm not sure I'm willing to gamble my life on becoming a savior of the Labyrinth," Tilly replied, letting out a yawn. "If you let me sleep on it, _maybe_ my mind will change, but I will say this: you humans are quite thick-headed, rushing into danger without a second thought," her lips twitched into a lopsided grin. "I respect that."

Rooster scratched his chin, pondering the plan for a second. Thistlewink potions were already difficult to brew one at a time; the idea of brewing multiple potions per day filled his body with dread and pre-emptive exhaustion. Despite that notion, Sarah's idea wasn't entirely reckless. With some adjustments, maybe - just maybe - it might be able to go smoothly.

"Let's meet back here after breakfast. We've all had a long day, and with some sleep, we can bring a fresh mind to Sarah's plan. I'm still not sure myself whether it will work. There are too many things that could foil it," Rooster said, his eyebrows still furrowed in deep thought.

"Fair enough." Tilly moved to peck at the top of the dwarf's head, smoothing his fiery red curls. "Just because you're telling us to sleep doesn't excuse you from doing the same."

"I will. Don't fuss over me." He mumbled, fidgeting with his fingers.

Soon he was alone with his thoughts. Tilly and Sarah had left him to return to their own chambers. He knew he should call it a night, but after all Sarah said - especially about the prophecy - it called for research. How was an entire cult able to retain an ancient prophecy, but not the previous Goblin Kings? There must be another reason why, other than constant conflict. Maybe that fact was the answer itself.

But, maybe not.

Rooster scrambled for his books, grabbing any that pertained to the history of the Underground. Even the ancient books that are in desperate need of repair, the paper so weak it would crumble under the pressure of fingers turning it. The older the scriptures, the better. Anything that would hint towards this prophecy. Books, both brand new and falling apart, were stacked upon each other atop his desk. He grabbed one, skimming the pages of the book to find any scraps of relevant information.

Nope. Nothing. _Next_.

Again, he repeated this process, and again he found nothing pertaining to the Prophecy. Rooster continued this method for at least ten more books, before falling asleep with the eleventh book in front of him.

Tragically unable to peruse it in the morning, he was rudely awoken by a sudden, urgent rapping at his door. He was being summoned by the Goblin King. In a rush, the dwarf managed to make it to the King's chambers without appearing like he was just woken up. Taking a moment to smooth out some of the wrinkles of his slept-in robes, he knocked on the chamber door.

"Enter."

When Rooster entered, he was shocked at the sight of Jareth up and about. Not only was the King awake this early, but he was having a new outfit fitted. His arms were outstretched as a tailor measured their length.

"I am glad to see His Majesty doing better this morning," he commented, bowing before Jareth. "And in such high spirits as well."

The Goblin King gave the slightest gesture with his hand, letting the dwarf rise. "I've been up all night with the grandest idea."

"What would that be, Your Majesty?"

"It's been _awfully_ dreary in the castle these days. Everyone's mood is in the gutter, and frankly, I am exhausted by the cloud of depression that seems to hang over our heads. So I've decided to host a ball in a month's time. Surely, that will put a spring in everyone's step," Jareth explained, lowering his arms.

Rooster was rendered speechless, almost smiling at how ridiculous the Goblin King's idea was. Perhaps it was due to lack of proper sleep, but the dwarf could hardly contain his shock. "...A ball, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, a ball," Jareth raised his arms again to let the tailor wrap the measuring tape around his waist. "I can already tell you have an objection to it," he added, part expectantly and partly in annoyance.

"Your Majesty, if I may be so blunt... I-I mean no offense, but I feel with the current state of affairs, and _circumstances_ -"

"Circumstances? You mean Sarah?" The Goblin King smirked at the dwarf. "With some convincing from you and Tilly, I'm sure she would be more than happy to attend. In fact, I plan to propose to her that very night. The ball will be a cover for an engagement party as well."

Rooster's heart nearly skipped a beat at the news. _Of course_ the Goblin King would meddle with their plan somehow - intentionally or otherwise. He supposed he would once again have to be the bearer of bad news to Sarah. But instead of feeling guilt, he felt relieved.

Jareth had provided the perfect route of escape for all of them. The gears began to turn in his head, planning and plotting out the fine details. "Your Majesty, that sounds absolutely romantic. I'd be surprised if the human is not swept off her feet at your proposal."

Jareth's smirk grew into a wide smile, motioning for the tailor to leave his bed chambers. The tailor nodded silently, leaving the room with a curt bow.

"Then it's settled! We will start preparations for the ball immediately. Hopefully our noble friends would still be inclined to partake, as my silence might have offended them," he said, letting out a boisterous laugh as he walked over to Rooster, clapping him on the back. "I doubt they would care."

"I'm sure the noble families would enjoy the invitation, though there would likely be a bit of a stir over your future engagement. It's not often the fae have marriages with humans," Rooster commented.

"As if I care. Rooster, did you bring me the usual?"

The dwarf nodded, pulling the thistlewink potion from the pocket of his robe. He handed the potion to the Goblin King, who immediately grabbed it, uncorking it and downing the potion in one gulp. A wave of relief flashed across his face in mere moments.

At that moment, Rooster saw the King's true face. His mismatched eyes were gaunt and sunken. The glow once present in those dim orbs was now gone. The Labyrinth draining what little energy he had left was taking more of a toll than usual. That must have been why he wanted to arrange this ball so badly, because he probably knew deep down he wouldn't last much longer. At least, one of the reasons.

"Will there be anything else you need, Your Majesty?"

Jareth blinked, shaking his head. "Not now. I would like for breakfast to be sent up here."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Rooster bowed, closely eyeing the King. Jareth stared off into the distance, watching something in the far corner. "Majesty? Are you sure you're doing alright?"

"Yes." His reply was blunt, his stares at the portraits of previous Goblin Kings unwavering. Rooster swiftly bowed again, not wanting to share the room with Jareth any longer, and made his egress. Once the door shut behind him, he paused, his hand still gripping the doorknob.

Was leaving the Goblin King to his devices a good idea? Would it be worth it? Questions of doubt riddled his mind, but the dwarf would have none of that. Instead, his energy would be better off focused on research, and saving the Labyrinth. It had been his goal for years. Why stop now, when there was now a (mostly) solid plan in the works?

All kinds of kinks needed to be worked out.

His walk back to his study was lackadaisical, too occupied with his usual thoughts of duties as he was. He noticed Tilly and Sarah waiting by his door, the former carrying a small basket covered with a cloth. She smirked at him in that certain way that made his head spin and heart melt.

"Stuck with Jareth again?" Tilly asked him.

"The routine never changes."

"Well, I'm afraid you might have to rearrange your schedule for a few days."

"Oh? That's a shame. I was looking forward to preparing for the upcoming ball next month."

"A ball? Next month?" Sarah repeated, her eyes widening.

"I'll explain momentarily, but for now," Rooster eyed the basket, inhaling the mouthwatering scent of food as his stomach eagerly growled. "We can discuss breakf- _the plan_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. The 10th chapter, and what was the bane of my existence since January. It's also the longest chapter I've written for a fic, I believe lol..
> 
> 5 months later, with surgery, and a renewed love for writing, it's finally arrived. I rewrote this chapter completely last week after it had been sitting on Google Drive since February when I last edited it. Maybe that's the secret to writing, you have to let your chapters brew before uploading them. 
> 
> I just wanted to apologize for the long wait, and a thank you for the hits and kudos. They really make my day.


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